Escape or Die
by queenofthetear
Summary: Clarke, that is my name, Clarke, and I have a story to tell. A story that changed me because you see there was a maze, a really big maze. A few boys and a message that was written on my arm. I don' remember anything, apart from to Run and Remember.
1. Chapter 1 - The Cage

I entered my new life standing up in a small caged box. All I could breathe was the stale, dusty air that surrounded my dark prison.

Metal ground against metal; the caged box jerked upwards slightly, causing me to become a sprawling mess on the floor. I adjust myself and shuffled backwards to a corner of the cage, curling into a tight ball. Drops of sweat were falling down my face, despite the cool air coming from the shaft. My tight ball gave me little comfort; I wished my eyes would adjust to the darkness so I could see where I was.

A red light begun flashing from the opposite wall allowing for my first glimpse into my dark cage. Around, I could see crates piled up with faded writing printed on the sides. Next to the pile where several chests, each one numbered differently. I slowly shuffled over to the chests, making sure that I didn't disturb any monsters as I went.

Halfway across, harsh sounds of chains and pulleys echoed throughout, bouncing the noise around the shaft causing a small whine to be heard. The cage jolted; starting its descent upwards. The soft backwards and forwards swaying of the cage lifted nausea into my stomach; the smell of burnt oil didn't help the situation either. By this time I had given up my adventure to the numbered chests and had shuffled back to my original spot in the cage. I wanted to cry. I was alone. But no tears would come, so I sat there and waited.

_My name is ... Clarke_, I thought. But that was the only thing I could remember. Nothing sprung back. How could this be? Knowledge flooded back; useful information of the world and how it works popped up in my mind. I was able to picture a snowy wood-scene with snow dusting the leaves. The bright sun in the sky shielded by the dark moon. Eating fish and chips on a windy beach. A busy street where people bustle around in their own business.

And yet, I was only able to remember my name. I had no recollection of where I came from, who I was, how old I was and how I ended up in the dark cage. I don't even remember my last name. Images of people flashed across, faces that I must have known before, but was unable to identify them. I had no memory of any of them. And this freaked me out.

Time past for what seems like hours, the swaying motion becoming bearable over time. But, I should have known better, it wasn't really hours that had gone by but only a few mere minutes had. I was able to calculate that I had spent about half an hour in this awful dark box. Half an hour in the darkness alone with nothing to remember.

Curiosity grabbed me, and I was suddenly free of all the fears that I had. Carefully standing up, I edged over to the crates that once towered over me. Squinting, I was able to read the faded writing. _Property of W.I.C.K.E.D_ was what it read. What the hell was _W.I.C.K.E.D_?

Looking around, I noticed that the walls that surrounded my cage had disappeared, leaving emptiness. With a groan and then a click, the cage haltered; causing me to be thrown across the hard floor. As I scrambled to my feet, I felt the cage sway less and less causing my nausea to come back. Finally the swaying stopped, and everything fell silent.

A minute passed. Then two. Nothing happened. I looked both ways to see if there was any hope. There was not. I slowly traced my fingers across the walls beside me, to try and find an exit of some sort. Nothing came of it, only the cool metal. I screamed in frustration, which echoed through the darkness. It quietened, and I was returned to silence. Panic seeped in; jumping up I pounded at the walls screaming for someone to hear me.

Nothing.

Defeated, I traced my steps back into my corner and curled into my tight ball. I started to shiver from the cold air, which allowed fear once again return. Icy chills shuddered down my body whilst my heart was bounding in my chest, threatening to burst out.

"_Someone...please...help...me_", I screamed once more; each word ripping my throat raw.

A large clank came from above me startled the empty silence. I took in a sharp breathe and looked up. I was greeted with small slit of light that crept along the ceiling of my cage. A heavy groaning sound revealed sliding doors being forced open. After so long in the darkness, the light burned my eyes. I quickly looked away covering my face with my hand.

Noises came from above - no voices - panic started to build up once again.

"It's a girl"

"A girl?"

"I got dibs"

"How old is she?"

"Some shuck go get Alby"

I was unable to understand what the squabbles were about, but I guessed that they weren't happy about something, especially if a person called Alby had to be called. Confusion built up and the voices were odd and words spoken were foreign - familiar. As my eyes adjusted towards the light, I was able to make out faces all looking down to me. Eventually blurred shapes turned into a face of a boy, numerous boys - some young and some older. Seeing all these face puzzled me; I didn't really know what to expect.

Taking deep breathes; I was able to calm myself down only slightly, but not enough to slow my ever increasing heart rate.

A rope was lowered down with the end tied in a big loop. Taking the loop, I placed it over my head and secured the rope around my waist. I pulled on the end of the rope, and was suddenly lurched into the sky. Hands reached grabbed my shirt to pull me up; lots of hands were in fact trying to pull me up. The world seemed to spin in front of me, everything blurring into one. My eyes now trying to fully adjust to the brightness of where I was.

Two feet planted on the ground, I turned to face the crowd. A harsh whisper plagued the group, but someone spoke as they yanked him over the edge of the cage.

"Nice to meet ya, shank," the boy said. "Welcome to the Glade."


	2. Chapter 2 - The Glade

My eyes finally adjusted to the new world, allowing me to see where I fully was. Feeling weak, I stumbled slightly. But that couldn't stop my curiosity. I arched my head, trying to look over the crowd of boys. Just so I could see where I was. But I could not, I wasn't tall enough. My new companions said nothing and gawked as I struggled to understand where I was.

As I rotated in a very slow circle, the group sniggered and stared; some tried to reach out and poke me, but I hit their fingers away. There had to at least be 50 of them, their clothes filthy and sweaty as if they had been hard at work, all shapes and sizes and races, their hair at varying lengths. I felt dizzy spell spiralling up. I couldn't handle the strange place that I had been dumped in. Faces and bodies started to flicker into a blur of shapes.

Willing myself not to throw up, I pushed past the group of boys and stopped dead. I stood in a vast courtyard, several times larger than a football field; surrounded by four large grey stone walls smothered in ivy crawlers. The walls were incredibly high; they had to be over hundreds of feet high, and formed a perfect square around the courtyard, each side split in the middle by an opening as tall as the walls themselves. From my shaky position, I was able to see that each opening led into a dark lengthy corridor that turned off to somewhere else.

I took a step forward, wishing my legs wouldn't give way, then another step and another. Each step quickened in pace until I was running towards the nearest opening, adrenaline pumping through my veins. _I need to get out of here; I need to get out of here_, circled through my head.

I was so close to the opening when I heard large thumping noises behind me. Two paces later I was tackled to the ground, a large figure on top of me. I looked up from the ground, and saw the dark long corridor in front of me. I was about 50 metres away, I could still do it.

"No, please let me go, please. I don't belong here," I struggled to say under the weight. "Please, let me go."

"Stop kickin' me, shank" the boy laughed. "Calm yourself down, Greenbean."

Burying my face into the gravel beneath us, I took several deep breathes trying calm my thumping heart. But I couldn't, I didn't belong here and I needed to escape.

"Look, I'll get off you, but you have to promise not to run again," the boy on top said. "Do ya promise?"

I sluggishly nodded in agreement. Slowly the figure stood up from his position on my back, and carefully helped me up from the rough floor. I turned to face my pursuer. It was a boy, rather tall and muscular with blonde hair cut long, cascading over his T-shirt. He looked the age of seventeen, or older, I couldn't tell.

"Where am I?" I questioned the boy in front of me.

"Nowhere good." Answered a deeper voice from behind the boy that stood in front of me. The boy who had spoken revealed himself from behind. He was a dark-skinned boy with his hair short-cropped and clean shaven; lines creased his face which suggested that he must scowl a lot. He wore normal clothes: black T-shirt, jeans, tennis shoes, a digital watch. For some reason the clothes that he wore surprised me; it seemed like everyone should be wearing something more menacing – prison gear. Behind the boy followed the group that had watched me climb out of the cage. I looked to see a short, pudgy boy that fidgeted back and forth on his feet looking at me with wide eyes. Gazing across a saw a thick, heavily muscled Asian kid folding his arms as he studied me, his tight shirtsleeves rolled up to show off his biceps.

The dark-skinned boy turned to the boy standing in front of me and said, "Newt, I thought ya said ya could handle this shank. That means that they don't run towards the maze when they are as crazy as she is right now."

"I didn't think that she would run. She looked sick from the journey in the bloody Box."

Keeping my eyes fixed on the boys in front of me, a slowly crept backwards towards the opening, making sure that they didn't see what I was doing. Clearly in a heated argument, I spun quickly on my heel and ran to the exit. I was now so close to the opening, but once again I was tackled to the ground. Not taking any of this, I kicked the boy on top of me, and pushed him off. I sprung up darted for that long corridor. _This will bring my escape, please God, I don't belong here,_ I thought as the distance decreased.

But, something strange happened. A prickling sensation trailed up my arm, and through my body. Pain exploded in my head, and I was thrown on to the ground hard, close to the opening. Curling into a tight ball, I clutched my head screaming in pain. I could hear voices, but they were of no use to me. Black dots appeared in my vision, my vision was blurring, feet appeared in front of me and then darkness.

* * *

><p><em>I was standing, what seemed to be, a cloud in the sky. A very dark sky. Instinct told me it must have been around midnight. Walking to the edge of the cloud, I was able to look over and see that I was standing on top of a very large city. A river bent its way throughout, with numerous boats cruising along. Bridges were dotted along the river, with various machines gliding on them. I could see a large wheel of some sort that was lit up by bright lights changing colours every now and again. Squinting, I could make out a large clock across from the wheel, but no matter how hard I tried to squint, I couldn't make out the time.<em>

_Behind me, I heard a loud scratching sound that sent icy chills up my back. I turned around to see a figure slowly approaching me, no not a figure but an ice creature. Stretching out its hand towards me, the creature shuffled forward. Panic rising, I scanned my surroundings to see where I could run to. My eyes fixed on a large blue box located on the opposite side of the cloud. The ice creature was close now. Dodging out of the way of its claws, I sprinted to the blue box. The doors swung open, and a young man appeared in the doorway. _

_"Clarke, run" he screamed from his position. But I couldn't move. My legs had stopped working and I was frozen in the middle of the cloud. _

_"Help me!" I screamed at the man. Why wouldn't the man help me? Why did he just stand there?_

_I turned around and saw that the ice creature was now only a few metres away. The claws extended towards me and grabbed hold of my wrist, tightening its grip as if I was going to flee. I screamed. My body was frozen in motion, and I was forced back by the creature. I couldn't run, I couldn't free my hand, I couldn't do anything. I was being dragged by this creature to the edge of the cloud. _

_"Help me, please! I'm going to fall," I cried to the man in the blue box. But nothing came of this, and he stood there and watched. Tears falling down his face._

_The ice creature was now moving us close to the edge. Tears were streaming down my face, as I took my last look at the young man in the blue box. _

_"Don't forget Clarke, run all the way home. Don't forget. Remember!" he yelled from the box. _

_The creature fell over the edge of the cloud. And I fell with it. Screaming._

I woke up before I hit the ground, sweaty and breathing hard. I sat up quickly, checking if there were any ice figures in the room. Room. Wait, when had I got here? The last thing I remembered was being falling to the ground in pain. Pain. Ah yes, with the mention of that, a dull throbbing kicked into my head. But a new pain emerged along with it, a prickling sensation on my left arm. Glancing down, I saw that my foreman was wrapped with a white bandage, blood oozing through the white cloth. The blood seemed to be making a pattern on the bandage, as if there were special markings on my skin. Tracing my right fingers over the bandage, I started to unravel the cloth when a boy walked in.

"No, don't do that you need to keep it sterilised," the boy exclaimed, rushing over and swatting my hands away from the bandage. Holding my left arm, the boy rewrapped my arm, and securing it tightly.

"Ow,"

"It serves you right. Shouldn't have unravelled it in the first place," the boy muttered. Finished with his handy, he rose from his position and extended a hand.

"The names Jeff," he said. Stretching my right hand, I shook his. Jeff was tall boy, with a buzz haircut.

"What's your name, Greenie?"

"Um, obviously not Greenie. It's… um…Clarke,"

"Cool! We have been dyin' to know your name. But, I think some will stick callin' you the shank that kick Minho in the groin." Jeff chuckled.

"Who's Minho?" I asked, puzzled.

"He's a Keeper you see, and he's the one that took you down. Well, tried to. He ain't to happy about what you did. Calling you a slinthead…"

"…Jeff, the Greenie up yet," a voice shouted from outside the door. "Alby wants her in the Gatherin'."

"Yeah, she's up"

The door creaked open, and another boy walked in. No, this boy I had seen before. Newt. I think that was his name.

"Well, get her up then. Alby wants her now, she's been sleepin' for too long"

"I'm not going anywhere," I rebuked to Newt. I was not moving and that was final.

"Erm…Newt…she's right, she can't go anywhere." Jeff said.

"Why?"

"She can't walk. When she fell, I believe she twisted her ankle. She won't be able to walk on it for a few days"

"WHAT?! When were you going to tell me that I had twisted my ankle?" I screamed at Jeff. Anger was flaring up, and I was ready to strangle that boy. A puzzling look came across Newt's face.

"The Gatherin' is waiting for her, Alby won't wait forever. We will just have to improvise," Newt said as he bent down to lift me from my bed. Carefully lifting me up, Newt limped out of the room, down a set of stairs and outdoors with me in his arms. The cool air refreshed my face. Taking a deep breathe, I sighed. Glancing up, I saw struggle written across Newt's face.

"Am I heavy?" I asked Newt.

"Yeah, you weigh a tonne," Newt said with a smile creeping across his lips. I huffed and turned to look at the Glade that I had only glimpsed at my previous encounter. Observing the new surroundings, I could see in front of me that there stood wooden pens holding sheep and pigs and cows. A large grove of trees filled the corner; the closet ones looked crippled and close to dying. The sky overhead was cloudless and blue, but I couldn't see any sign of the sun despite the brightness of the sky. The creeping shadows to the walls didn't reveal the time or direction – it could be early morning or late afternoon.

"How long?" I asked, "How long was I out for?"

"A few days at least," Newt responded. "That screamin' fit ya had scared the klunk out of us. We weren't sure ya would wake up again."

I looked up and saw Newt staring down at me, worry creeping into eyes.

"Well, I'm awake now. So no worries," I said with a smile, trying to rid the worry from his eyes. It hurt to see someone look at me like that.

A large shadowed engulfed us; gazing up I could see a large wooden shack that had a few boys standing guard outside. Newt walked past them into the shack and placed me on a chair in the centre of the room. The boys from outside filled in and took their seats respectively. Glancing around, I could see that there were 13, including me, in the wooden room. Straightening myself, I looked ahead to the boy sitting in the centre. I recognised him instantly; he was the dark-skinned boy that shouted at Newt for letting me run to the edge of the Glade.

Standing up the boy stalked over to me. Fear was creeping in once again, and the ice figure popped into my head.

"Greenie, are you even listenin'. My name is Alby and I am the leader of the Gladers, who are you?"


	3. Chapter 3 - The Gathering

"What is your name, Greenie?" Alby demanded as stood there towering over me.

"Clarke, that's my name. Clarke. Not Greenie, not shank or whatever you call me. Clarke," I squeaked, trying not to burst into tears. "Where am I?"

I watched as Alby lessened his intimidating stare aimed towards me. He stepped back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. Taking a deep breath, he replied to my question.

"It's a long story shank," Alby said. "Piece by piece you'll learn – I'll be taking you on a tour when the med-jacks say you can walk on your ankle."

"I am sat here. I can't rise from this seat. Just tell me the long story now so it is over and down with"

Alby glanced at his friends from behind him.

"Seriously," I repeat. "Where am I?"

"If you ain't scared, you ain't human. Act any different and I'd throw you off the Cliff because it'd mean you're a psycho."

"The Cliff?" I stammered, blood draining from my face.

"Shuck it," Alby said, rubbing his eyes. "Ain't no way to start these conservations, you get me? We don't kill shanks like you here, I promise. Just try and avoid _being_ killed, survive, whatever."

He paused, and I realized my face must have whitened even more when I had listened to that last part.

"Man," Alby said, then ran his hands over his short hair as he let out a sigh. "I ain't good at this – you're the first Greenbean since Nick died. And to make things worse, you're the first problem that we have encountered for two years. Two years. Two years that box has come up every month with a new Greenie. No problems. But why were you sent up, there must be a reason."

"I don't know anythin-"

"Of course you don't know anything," Alby shouted. "Your memories have been removed. I know that, I ain't a shank. But what we have to figure out is what we are going to do with you. The Creators sent you here for a reason, and it must be a very good reason. Which means that whatever they put on arm also had a very good reason."

"What did _They_ put on my arm?" I ask as I examined my bandaged arm. Grabbing hold of the top, I ripped the cloth from my left forearm. Wincing in pain I started at the bloody mess that flowed across my arm. Bunching the cloth into a ball, I wiped the blood to reveal the hidden message beneath. _Run, Remember_, was carved across my forearm. Panic building up, I rubbed the words hard, trying to rid them from my skin. The pain was unbearable, but I had an urgent feeling of detaching myself from these dreaded words.

Unaware of the chaos around me, I was taken by surprise when two hands grabbed mine and forced them apart.

"Bloody hell Clarke, you seem to have a habit of scarin' the klunk out of us," a familiar voice spoke. Looking up, I saw Newt was the one that had grabbed my hands.

"What do the words mean," I whispered to him, catching my voice with a large gulp, tears threating to fall. No, they wouldn't fall. I don't want them to think that I was weak.

"I don't know," he answered. "We were hopin' that you would have an idea."

"But I don't know. I can't remember anything," I mumbled. "Please, I don't want to be here anymore. Take me back to my room."

Before Newt could reply, a boy rushed over and pushed him out of the way. Composing himself, Newt stood up and wondered back to his place in the shack. My eyes never leaving the back of his head.

"Clarke, let go off the bandage," a voice begged. Shaking myself from my daydream, I stared at the boy who was now talking to me. A hand was trying to detached mine apart. He was quite a short boy, with grey hairs already conquering his jet black.

"Clint, how long will you be?" Asked Alby.

"You can carry on; I'm still a Keeper so there is no reason to stop."

"Right," Turning to face me, Alby continued. "The situation with the message can be put on hold for the minute, as you're quite jumpy about it. However, we have decided in the council that you should go through the normal two weeks of a Greenie so that we can decide who your keeper will be.

"Usually we start with the Slaughterhouse with Winston, but since you need to rest we decided that you should start with the Med-jacks. Any objections say nay."

Alby turned to face the council made up in front of me. One nay came from a scratchy voice in the corner of the room.

"She can't be allowed to work with us, banish her. She almost broke one of the rules."

"Gally, shut your hole. No one is going to get banished because you think they should. Should I remind you of the trouble you caused a few months back?" Alby said, raising an eyebrow. No sound came out if the boy Gally to reply with.

"Fine then, we are done here. Clint you can finish off her arm later. We need to go through the tour of the Glade."

On cue, each Keeper rose from their position and walked out leaving only Alby, Newt and I. Staring after the door, I wished to be woken up from this terrible terrible dream that was happening.

Determined not to look weak, I shakily stood up from my chair, carefully pressing weight on my twisted ankle. It hurt, but the pain was bearable. I let go of the chair and limped over to where Alby and Newt stood, before watching with cautious eyes, as if I was an animal that would become their prey. When I was close enough, I stopped, breathing hard. Limping takes a lot of energy out of someone.

"Lead the way," I said as my hand motioned to the door.

* * *

><p>Standing in the middle of the Glade, I was conducted a tour. Alby spread his arms out, palms up. "This place, as you may know, is called the Glade, all right? It's where we live, where we eat, where we sleep – we call ourselves the Gladers. That's all you –"<p>

"Who sent me here?" I demanded, fear finally giving way to anger. "How'd –"

But Alby's hand shot out before I could finish, grabbing me by the shirt making sure that I couldn't squirm away. "No interruptions, Greenie," Alby shouted. "Whacker, if we told you everything, you'd die on the spot, right after you klunked your pants. Baggers'd drag you off, and you ain't no good to us then, are ya?"

Newt reached out and grabbed Alby by the shoulders. "Alby, lay off a bit. You're hurtin' more than helpin', ya know?"

Alby let go of my shirt and stepped back, his chest heaving with breaths. "Ain't got time to be nice, Greenbean. Old life's over, new life's begun. Learn the rules quick, listen don't talk. You get me?"

I looked over at Newt, hoping for some help. Everything inside me churned and hurt; my head was throbbing, my ankle wanted to chew itself off and let's not get started on the arm situation.

Newt nodded. "Clarke, you get him, right?" He nodded again.

I was fuming; I needed to punch somebody, anybody I didn't care. But I just simply said, "Yes."

"Good that," Alby said. "First Day. That's what today will be for you shank, even if you have been 'ere for longer. Night's comin', Runners'll be back soon. You woke up late today, we ain't got time to finish the Tour. Tomorrow moring, right after we wake-up." He turned towards Newt. "Get her to bed, get her to sleep."

"Good that," Newt said.

Alby's eyes returned to mine, narrowing. "A few weeks, you'll be happy, shank. You'll be happy and helpin'. None of us new jack on the First Day, you neither. There is a mystery behind you, and that mystery we will solve."

Alby turned and stormed off, heading towards the slanted building in the corner. Nothing was said for a long time as both Newt and I stood there. My head sunk, eyes staring at the cracked rocky ground. A line of small-leafed weeds ran along the edge of one of the stone blocks, tiny yellow flowers peeping through as if searching for the sun, long disappeared behind the enormous walls of the Glade.

"Chuck'll be a good fit for ya," Newt said, breaking the silence. "Wee little fat shank, but nice sap when all's said and done. Stay here, I'll be back."

Newt had barely finished his sentence when a sudden, piercing scream ripped through the air. High and shrill, the barely human shriek echoed across the stone Glade; every kid in sight turned to look toward the source. I felt my blood turn to icy slush as I realized the horrible sound came from the wooden building that I had been in.

Even Newt had jumped as if startled, his forehead creasing in concern.

"Shuck it," he said. "Can't the bloody Med-jacks handle that boy for ten minutes without needin' my help?" He shook his head, patted my on the shoulder. "Find Chuckie, tell him he's in charge of your sleepin' arrangements."

"Wait, I thought I was staying…" I trailed off. Newt had already turned and headed in the direction of the building, running.

Left alone in this vast place, I made my way over to a tree and slid down the rough face. I shrunk back against the bark, wishing I could wake up from this dream.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Bully

_A man stood before me in a small metal room. Red lights were flashing away as water dripped down the sides of the wall. Breathing in, I knew instantly that this air wasn't clean, it tasted old and used._

_The man was not much taller than me, his head slightly bald, with greying hair in places. He wore a worn grey uniform, with a strange symbol sewn into the left hand side, his hands placed by his side shaking. The face of the man was old and wearing, as if he had seen the world collapse right in front of him. Perching himself on the side of the wall, the man spoke. "Oh, it's a young man's game, all this dashing about. Clarke, what is it?"_

_"I was doing okay. I mean, I went in there and I did the scary stuff, didn't I? I went in there with the Ice Warrior and it went okay. Actually, it went just about as badly as it could have done but that wasn't my fault." I replied. What was I going on about? What scary stuff happened? What was an Ice Warrior? Unlike my other dream, this one felt real, too real._

_"Not at all."_

_"So, I'm happy about that."_

_"Yes, and so you should be. So what's the matter?"_

_"Seeing those bodies back there. It's all got very real. Are we going to make it?"_

_The man looked at me with sad eyes, sighing he replied to my question. "Yes, of course we are."_

_Overhead I hear an intimating creaking and growling sound, something was in the vents above and it was moving very fast. I shudder at all the possibilities as to what could be up there. Rats, mice, rats. I was hoping that it was just vermin. But logic told me that something was going to happen, something very bad. Fear like no other crept into me, once again I turned to the old man in front of me and asked, "What was that?"_

_"The Doctor told you, it's just the boat settling. Tell me about yourself. What do you like doing? Clarke? Clarke?"_

_The Doctor. Boat. Where the hell was I? The man was hiding something from me, something important that I need to find out. But try if I could, the words that I wanted to say never came out. What is wrong, isn't this a dream?_

_My lips move without my command "Stuff. You know, stuff."_

_"Stuff. Very enlightening. And the Doctor, what he said. Is it true you're from another time? From our future? Clarke?"_

_"Yes." What? The future. How can I be from the future? Time travel isn't possible. It's only made up thing that people go on about. Is the man crazy in front of me? Am I crazy?_

_The flashing of the red light speed up, footsteps echo round the metal room. Someone is approaching. I can hear shouts, they sound close, yet so far away._

_"Clarke? Clarke?" the man says, diverting my attention away from the shouts. "Tell me what happens."_

_"I can't."_

_"Well, I need to know." A strange look came across the man's face, fear creeping into his, as was to mine. The urgency in his voice meant that I needed to tell him something, but I couldn't, it was against the rules. Screeech. I snapped my head to the vents above me, a scratching sound was coming from there and the ice figure popped into my head. No, I thought, that monster died._

_"Tell me what happens," the man was sounding desperate now. His insistence to pull me from whatever I tried to look at. Biting back my anger, once again I was subject to say words I did not intend to say._

_"I can't."_

_"Well, I need to know"_

_"I'm not allowed."_

_"No, please."_

_"I can't!" I say furiously. I was frustrated now. I wanted to scream at the man for not letting me look behind me. I wanted to demand where I was. And most of all, my curiosity would ask who the Doctor was, and why he sounded so familiar. However, my mouth had other thoughts, and refused any control from my mind. Whatever that man wanted to know, he couldn't know. It was important that the information that I held stayed a secret. But what information, I can't remember anything._

_"Ultravox, do they split up?" the man chuckled. You have got to be kidding me. All of this bugging to just know about one band._

_"Funny. You're funny" I laugh nervously._

_Then it happens. Something grabs my head. Slimy fingers trap me in a prison. I was frozen in my position, my body locking into place._

A foot tapped the end of my foot, jolting awake I peered up to see a small boy looking down at me. Stretching slightly, I pulled myself up from my position on the ground.

A metallic clicking sound from the branches above diverted my attention away from the boy stood in front. A flash of silver and red light caught my eye just before it disappeared around the tree trunk to the other side.

"That was one of them beetle blades," the boy said.

I turned to look at the kid in front of me. He was short and pudgy, and staring at me. He was young - probably the youngest of the group as I have seen so far, maybe twelve or thirteen years old. His brown hair hung down over his ears and neck, scraping the tips of his shoulders. Blue eyes shone through an otherwise pitiful face, flabby and flushed.

I nodded towards him, my hands flinching towards my head. "A beetle what?"

"Beetle blade," the boy said, pointing towards the top of the tree. "Won't hurt ya unless you're stupid enough to touch one of them." He paused. "Shank." He didn't sound too comfortable saying that last word, as if he hadn't quite grasped the slang that the Gladers use.

Another scream, this one long and nerve-grinding, tore through the air. My heart lurched from its position in my body. The fear was like icy dew on my skin, cold and known. "What's going on over there," I asked pointing to the building where I resided for a few days.

"Don't know," the chubby boy replied; his voice still carried the high pitched of childhood. "Ben's in there, sicker than a dog. _They_ got him."

"_They_?" I ask, intent to find out why this boy used the word so maliciously.

"Yeah."

"Who are They?"

"Better hope you never find out," the kid answered. He held out his hand. "My name's Chuck. I was a Greenbean until you showed up, but I don't know if you are a Greenbean since...you know... you're a girl and everything."

Chuck looked down at his feet and knocked them together, embarrassed. Dancing around on the spot, the kid was quite intent to show me the rest of the Glade. Chuck was a kid, only a kid. Why would anyone want to send him up to this cruel place? He should be out there in the outside world living a life that isn't trapped inside these damn walls.

Another scream came from the house, a sound like a starving animal being tortured. "Will he be alright?"

"He'll be okay. No one dies if they make it back in time to get the serum. It's all nothing. Dead or not dead Just hurts a lot apparently."

"What hurts a lot?"

Chuck eyes wandered as if he was deciding what to say next. "Um, gettin' stung by one of those Grievers."

"Grievers?" This kid was making me more and more confused. The words he used had a heavy weight of dread attached to them. Dread I wasn't so sure I wanted to learn about.

"You ask a lot of questions," Chuck finally replied. He doesn't know. Or maybe he does, but trying to keep information from me, just like I did to the old man. Curiosity became the bane of my life.

"Chuck, how ... how old do you think I am?"

The boy scanned me up and down. He scrunched up his face, deciding the perfect answer to reply with. "I'd say you're about seventeen, you look it. I think your about five foot five ... long brown hair, skinny with..." Chuck leaned closer into my face, trying to detail every inch of it. "With blue eyes that look grey when far away."

I was stunned silence that I had barely heard the last part. Seventeen? I wasn't seventeen, I felt older, as if my body has been on adventures that my mind hasn't been told about. As if I had witnessed everything, but missed it. My body was trying to bring in dread and guilt, but searching memories I couldn't pinpoint why I suddenly felt like this.

"Are you serious?" I paused, searching for the right words to say. "How..."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it. you may be whacked for a few days, but you'll get used to it. The rest of them have sort of heard the news that there is a girl here, and there calling you all sorts of names more than Greenie or Newbie. So, what is your name, I have been dyin' to know."

"Oh...er..." I say, taken back by what Chuck said. Everyone already knows about me, and there all calling me names. I have only been here a few days and I'm already centre of attention. Not what I was looking for, and it seems that my fuzzy memories were telling me the same as well, I don't like standing out. I look over to Chuck, his big eyes asking me to reply with my name.

"Clarke"

"Nice to meet you Clarke. Now to find some sleeping place for you. But first, let's eat. I'm starved!" Chuck said gleefully as he made his way towards a set of tables. Sighing, I limped after him trying to make sure that I stayed within reasonable distance that I wouldn't lose the kid.

My ankle picked up a dull throbbing pain, and I was forced to rest half way. Standing there in the middle of the Glade I felt awkward, the odd person out. Boys just stared as they walked past, giving no more than a glance before walking off again. _Charming_, I thought. Even without their memories, the act of chivalry goes out the window.

"You alright Clarke," came a voice from behind. I turned around to see Newt walking towards me. "Ya need any help gettin' over there."

"Yeah, Chuck was going to get food from Frypan but walked off. He probably didn't realise I can't walk properly."

"Let me help you then"

"Oh, no, don't pick me up again. It's not fair on you."

With a smile creeping across his face, Newt took my arm and looped it over his head while placing his other hand around my waist. As soon as his hands touched my waist, electricity shot through my body, my senses tingling. "There, is that better?" He asked me, reassuringly.

"That's fine."

We both hobbled over to the sets of tables that Chuck was waiting beside. Closer I got, I was able to make out the confusion written across his face. He must have only realised that I couldn't walk to the kitchens.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise that you couldn-"

"It's fine, really. Besides, I had forgotten as well." I winked at Chuck who gave a sigh of relieve and went to join the line that weaved its way to the kitchen. I turned my head to look up at Newt, who I saw was looking down at me. Our eyes locked, and I stared into those dark brown eyes. They were mesmerising, I could have lost myself in them. Our gaze broke when an unpleasant sound rumbled deep within my belly, warning me that I was close to devouring anything on sight.

"You bit hungry?" Newt asked, helping me to sit down on a table. I nodded in agreement, afraid that if I opened my mouth I may eat him whole. Nodding in agreement, Newt walked to the end of the queue that was starting to form, waiting in line for me. I couldn't my eyes off the back of his head, until a scratchy voice kicked me out of daydream.

"Hey, look, it's the Greenbean," I snapped my head to see a dark-haired guy sitting across from me who had tried to have me banished. He looked like he was fifteen or so, tall and skinny. His nose was the size of a small fist and resembled a deformed potato. The boy had a sneering look across his face, his mouth twitching into a small. His teeth were disgusting which meant with his deformed nose. Behind where he sat was a small group of boys sniggering, elbowing each other, as if the boy had said the funniest thing in the universe.

"What's your problem?" I asked, keeping the fear out of my voice trying not to make him think that I was weak. This boy was disturbing, and I wanted no part in what he was trying to do with me.

"What?" Taken back by may comment, the boy's anger started to show. "You don't talk to me like that Newbie."

The boy started to rise from his seat. Eyeing his clenched fists, I straighten my back calculating on the appropriate move to take against him. I couldn't run away, my ankle prevented me, so I just had to figure out another way. Deducing that the boy was prone to quick anger, I came up with an idea that may or may not have gotten me killed.

"I can talk to whoever a want the way I like," was the best I could come up.

"As if, you're just a Greenbean, I'm a Keeper, and could have you banished anytime I want."

"Yeah, so you trying to get me banished earlier was a real success, wasn't it?" I said, mockingly. The boy stared back dumbfound. His little group of followers mouths hanging. "So, if you are here just to bother me, shove off. I'm not really in the mood to deal with little kids today."

He lurched forward, but was immediately stopped by a loud voice. "GALLY, YOU SHANK, LEAVE THE BLOODY GREENIE ALONE!" A loud crash came down on the table beside me, and I saw Newt standing next to me anger in his eyes. Water was spilled over the table, with peas and bread scattered.

Gally stood up, narrowing his eyes towards Newt and stormed off, his little group following behind him. Once he had gone, I pulled the end of sleeve up from my jacket, and started to mop up the wet patch, trying to save bits of bread and peas. It was no use, our food had been ruined. Anger still in his eyes, Newt snatched the bread from my hand roughly cleaned up the peas and walked off to bring back more. Boys were staring at me from everywhere; my encounter with Gally must have gone unnoticed. Embarrassed, I sunk down where I was, wishing the ground would sallow my whole. Luckily, Chuck came pounding towards me, and took a sit on the table I was sat. A large grin exploded on his face.

"You were awesome," he laughed. "No one has been brave enough to stand up to him."

"Thanks," I mumbled, wishing to see the situation to pass. Newt returned with more food, and placed it down in front to me. More peas and bread were on my plate, with freshly cooked chicken steaming into my face. The food smelt delicious and I greedily ate till my plate was clean.

"Jeez, you were hungry." Newt said beside me.

"Well, seeing as I was out for a few days, I'm not really sure when my last meal actually was." I said, stopping myself from grabbing the plate and licking it clean. Oh, but it was so tempting.


	5. Chapter 5 - Dreams

It had been a few days since I had woken inside the Homestead, my head throbbing, my arm carved and my ankle twisted. By the third day, I was able to walk around the Glade slowly but unassisted, which meant for me it was the turn of the physically demanding jobs.

I was allowed one days rest before I started work with the med-jacks on the first day of a very gruelling two weeks. But, I couldn't do very much with them as I believe that the Ben-kid, that was stung, was having treatment of some sort. Of course, a Greenie shouldn't know all about that delicate information concerning kids getting stung. Instead I was tasked to sort through the limited amount of medicines that they had trying to figure out what helped what. I was terrible at this job, becoming frustrated whenever I got an answer wrong. To which point they decided to get me to clean tools and strips. By the end of the day, I was angry, frustrated and annoyed. Med-jacks was not the job for me.

By the second day, Alby decided to place me within in the kitchen to see if I would have any better place there. I finally met the famous Frypan, whose food was better than nothing. Unlike my experience with the Med-jacks, what happened within that kitchen is a matter of near explosion. I burnt mostly everything I made; something exploded within the oven, and I split water everywhere. Anything I tried to make failed, expect for a perfect soufflé which seemed to be my specialty. Frypan was so incredibly shocked; he couldn't understand why I was so bad at making and preparing food, but my soufflés seemed to be the only thing that worked. Once again, I was not destined within the kitchens (unless soufflé was wanted).

My third day was the less inspiring. As I was now able to walk, Alby demanded that I needed to start pulling some weight around. No more of them 'lazy' jobs, as he put it. Which meant that I was placed under the Keeper of the Gardens (the farmers).

Zart was a nice boy but very quiet. He was quite tall and broody with a long face and blue droopy eyes that seemed to make him look as bored as possible. Upon being greeting him, the boy smelled strangely of sour milk, which couldn't help me scrunching up my nose. I felt guilty afterwards, as Zart seemed to have been slightly upset by this action.

To make up for my rude welcome, I worked as hard as I possibly could. Making sure that I did everything to the best of my abilities. It was still useless though, my ankle meant that by lunchtime I was unable to even stand, let alone walk. Which meant I was forced to retire for the day, still with nothing under my belt that I could do well.

Once Zart and his team left for lunch, I pulled myself up from the floor and tried as best as I could to make it back to my room. Chuck and I decided on the first night that it would be easier to sleep indoors as it meant that I would have some more privacy there. Heaving myself into the door of my room; I fell straight on my bed. I didn't want any lunch, and I certainly I didn't want to be out there. The gladers stared at me whenever I was there, as if I was a disease that they wished to destroy. It was a very unwelcoming atmosphere here within a place I should have called home.

A loud blaring noise erupted suddenly through the quiet Glade, disturbing the peace. I rose from my bed and limped to the window to see what was happening. My eyes directed me to the Box, where a crowd of boys were milling around. Scanning the heads, I noticed Newt bending down and opening the cage doors. _This must be the weekly supplies_, I thought.

Oh, how I was so wrong about that.

I watched as more boys started to run over to the Box, shouting words that I couldn't hear. Temptation wanted me to go outside and look to see what was going on, but I couldn't, I barely made it back to my room without passing out. So I sat there from the window and watched the scene unfold.

I was unable to make out what the gladers were saying, but my questions were finally answered when a tall figure broke from the group and ran. He got halfway before he tripped over and face planted the ground. The gladers were laughing away clutching their sides. It was funny, the kid tried to run, but of course wouldn't get that far. Watching from my hideout, Alby walked to the boy and picked him up, giving the same speech he gave to me to the new Greenie. From what I could see, the kid look scared, he didn't take warmly to Alby and seemed to have a lot of questions to ask. Newt tried, and in some sense he was successful, a handshake was all that came out of that new friendship.

By this point, Alby had stormed away from where the kid had tried to take refuge under a tree. With his quicker temper, the new Greenie was sure to set it off with all the questions that he would demand to be answered, where he was, why he can't remember anything, what the shucking he'll is going on? All questions that seem logical to ask and demand, and questions that could get you on the wrong side of Alby. Making my way back to watching the new Greenie and Newt, I noticed that they both seemed to be talking intently, my best guess was the Newt was trying to calm the poor thing down. It is a scary experience waking up into the unknown with no recollection of your former self. We had all experienced it, and we had all taken it with a different approach. To me, this new Greenie seemed to be able to recollect himself well, not showing any problems that he may kluncked his pants, as Gally would have put it.

A heart wrenching scream came from above me startled me from my position in the window; I knew instantly that it was Ben again. He never really healed from the Changing; the Serum seemed to have been taking a long time trying to heal him, a lot longer than they had expected is what I overheard voices say outside my door. Looking back through the window, I saw Newt leaving the Greenie by a tree and running towards the Homestead.

The door of the Homestead crashed open and Alby walked in with a scowl on his face. I watched as he made his way through the room and jumped the steps of the stairs with each step he took. Newt followed in not far behind, and I caught his eye as he walked by. We hadn't spoken much since I had woken; my new jobs had kept me busy. Only at lunch or whenever he would pass by, I would catch his eye and the briefest of moments we would smile at one another before we had to move on. The moment had past just like the same, eyes catch, smile, and move on. That was about it between us.

"You can count on Chuck, okay?" a muffled voice came from outside. A group of boys had started to fill into the Homestead, curious as to what all the noise was, or maybe they had other things on their mind to do. Hadn't anyone notice that it had only been a week since I arrived, or had they completely forgotten already the situation that they had on their hands.

"You can't tell me anything. I wouldn't call that taking care of me," an unfamiliar voice replied to Chuck. I started to walk over to my window to see who was talking to him, but my attention diverted when I saw Gally and his followers enter and place themselves in a sort of attack formation inside the Homestead. They don't let anything down; everything has to be their way.

The door swung violently open, with a tall kid standing in the doorway. He looked scared, but still hopeful. Is he even scared?

"Look it's the new Greenbean," Gally snickered, jeering up his little crowd behind him. This isn't going to go down well, I thought. Not wanting to miss a second of this, I discreetly placed myself in the corner to watch the events unravel in front of me. "This shank probably kluncked his pants when he heard old Benny baby scream like a girl. Need a new diaper, shuck-face?"

"My name's Thomas," came from the kid, fear creeping in and out of his eyes. Without another word, he made for the stairs, but Gally stepped in front of him, holding a hand up.

"Hold on there, Greenie." Gally jerked a thumb in the direction of the upper floor. "Newbies aren't allowed to see someone who's been ... taken. Newt and Alby won't allow it."

"What's your problem?" Thomas asked, catching his words on gulps. "I don't even know where I am. All I want to do is help."

"Gally, that's enough, go bugger someone else who gives a dam about what you think." I say as walk over to him from my corner. Trying seize up to him, which was hard because this kid was tall.

"Move out the way, shank." Gally growled as he violently pushed me out of the way. I fell hard against the wall and collapse in a heap. My arm stung as I lay against the wall unable to move. Panic started to fill up in me as I remember my dream of the ice creature shuffling its way towards me as I was stuck on that god forsaken cloud. It's happening all over again, it's going to get me and I won't be so lucky this time.

I dug my nails into my hands, trying to get my body to react to something. Pressure building up I felt a wet sensation over my palms. Nothing happened. I was still unable to move from my frozen poison on the floor. Sweat fell down my face in drips. Breathing heavily, I started to shake violently from fear of the unknown. Behind, I could a familiar scratching noise scraping across the wall. My head refused to turn and confront the noise now so close to my ears. _Help me, please, I can't move_, I thought. Why wouldn't anyone help me?

Something hard grabbed my shoulder, and I screamed in terror, struggling to free myself from the strong grip. A few seconds passed and I finally plucked myself out of the frozen state I was in; I yanked the hand off my shoulder and tried to back into a corner to curl up into a tight ball so no one could take me. I could make this time, I wouldn't fall.

"Help me, please, someone help. I'm going to fall," was all the words that would come out of my mouth. Muffled voices came through the nightmare, words that I was unable to hear not matter how hard I tried to clutch at them. Seizing my chances I jumped up from the floor and headed in the direction I hoped was the door, running. Crashing through the still open doorway, I headed towards the trees so that I would have some cover to hide from anything that followed.

Upon entering the glade of trees, I didn't stop to see if anything had followed me from inside the Homestead. My internal nightmare blinded me from seeing anything, not even the tree branch lifted slightly on the floor, which beckoned my foot. With the tree branch nearing, I tripped and caused my body to go flying over the edge and tumble down a slight hill. My dream was still fresh in my mind, and I screamed as I crashed, leaves flying, twigs snapping. The cloud briefly formed in my mind, as I felt the air quickly wisp around me. This is it. I fall. I die. I wake. But this isn't a dream.

I finally came to stop at the bottom of the hill, shaking violently and heavily breathing. Tears were falling down my checks, some falling into my hair as I lay there. The nightmare was gone. No ice creature could follow me as I had fallen. No one could follow. I heard voices shouting a name in the distance, no my name in the distance. I tried to call back, to let them know I was here, but my mouth would not respond to what I wanted it to say. I was only able to lay there and ache all over; my ankle radiating a new pain as if it wanted to detach itself from my leg and hop away. No way was that happening. Ignoring the pain, I focused on trying not to drift in and out of consciousness, black dots were forming in my vision, threatening to take me the next time I closed my eyes.

"Clarke?" A voice shouted nearby. They were coming to help, but they were too late, I had already fallen.

"Clarke, Clarke?" The voice was ever so close now. I felt a presence of warmth as someone knelt down beside me. Hands picked me up from the ground, and I was able to see that Newt was there beside me. Cradled within his arms, my eyes were slowly shutting down, darkness trying to claim me.

"You're alright now, Clarke," Newt said softly to me. "Nothin' going to get you while I'm here."

Finally reassured by these words, my eyelids fluttered shut and I entered into my worst nightmares.

* * *

><p><em>"Tick tock," a child's voice whispered to me. "Tick tock, goes the clock."<em>

_"Who's there?" I call into the darkness. A very dark darkness. Lifting my hands above me, I couldn't see them, no matter how close they were to my face. This darkness was strange, thick and cold._

_"Tick Tock," a child's voice giggled beside me. Something or someone was scuttling along the cold stone floor, brushing its fingers along my legs. Yelping a jumped backwards, knocking something with the heel of my foot. My fear for this place was undeniable, and I stood there unable to do anything._

_I plucked up some courage and slowly bent down to see what I had kicked behind me. My fingers brushed a small smooth box, rough edges covering the side. It was a match box. Slowly opening the box, I felt my way picking up a match from inside. Blindly, I struck the match hoping it would ignite and give me light. It did. I looked up and saw a face, mouth wide open, fangs, and hands up ready to pounce. I dropped the match. My fatal mistake._


	6. Chapter 6 - The Doctor

I woke up breathing heavily. Sweat pouring down my face. My whole body aching all over. My eyes squinting to the harsh light.

Adjusting to the bright light, I recognised that I was back in my room within the Glade, the ceiling pale and peeling. Carefully sitting up, I noticed that I was covered in bandages, my arms, my legs and my head. What happened to me? Feeling a bit like and Egyptian mummy, I removed the bandages from their place, letting them flutter down on the floor like silk ribbons.

A grunt came from the far side of the room, and I notice a figure hunched over, head in between their lap, asleep. A flock of blonde hair told me that it was no ordinary figure, but in fact Newt there in the corner, asleep.

"Clarke?" he murmured lazily, as he lifted his head from its position. I must have woken up. A confused face started at me from the floor. Dark circles drooped along the bottom of his eyes, his brow knitted in confusion. Rising from his position he walked over and sat in the end of the bed.

"Are you alright?" He asked with concern written within his voice. No I wasn't alright. I have been having nightmares every time I had fallen asleep, each one getting worse and worse. How could I be fine?

"Yeah, I'm alright," I said as best as I could, making sure that I sounded convincing enough. Newt stared at me for a minute, trying to make up a decision of some sort. I stared back, which was hard because he really did have nice chocolate brown eyes. My hands played with one another on my lap as I waited awkwardly for him to reply.

"'Kay," he finally answered, breaking the awkward silence between us. "Well...erm...it's...erm...it's night now, so everyone is...erm...asle-"

"Are you alright?" I asked, with a smile creeping at my lips. Is he blushing? A glare shot back from the question, but still I swear he was blushing.

"You 'ere out most of the day, and we had a Gatherin' to question what that was all about."

_Good, good,_ I thought. _He can complete full sentences now._

"And their just worried about what made you go shucking crazy. You scared the klunck out of Gally, and I think the Greenie is scared for life.

"Which is also the other thing we talked about. Two Greenies in a matter of a week. Haven't been done 'efore. Alby wants to know what is going on. Why would the Creators mess the shucking system up?"

All I was able to do was stare at him in shock. They had a Gathering about me to question what happened, and why there are two Greenies within a month, not one. Thinking through plausible explanations, I mustered up a thought that I had had earlier in the day.

"What if the new Greenie came on time, and I wasn't supposed to be here."

Newt paused for thought, his brow knitted together.

"It does explain something, but also reminds me. A bag was found with your name written inside it in the Box. We haven't gone through it yet, we only looked to see who the bag belonged to, but were wondering if you could, ya know, look inside."

A brown worn satchel bag was placed on my lap in front of me. The fabric was worn and fading, with the ends fraying in places. The bag was somewhat very heavy, and bulging, something important was placed within it. Opening it, I saw inside various curious items, but more importantly my name faintly written on the inside lining of the bag.

_Property of Clarke Pennyweather._ Pennyweather. That must be my surname. Pennyweather.

A white light flashed across my eyes, and strange voices whispered to me. I looked up to see briefly two men and a women standing at the foot of my bed. Newt had disappeared, but I was to see the slight indentation on my bed of where he sat.

"Clarke, you alright? You had quite a fall." The women asked. She was quite beautiful, with long dark red hair, pale skin and freckles that littered her face. She was very tall, matching the same height as her companions. The man next to her wore a tweed jacket, and seemed to have too much energy stored within him. He twiddled with his hands, and adjusted his red bow tie every now and again. A smirk was written across his face as he jumped around the strange room. The second man was standing on the women's left, his hands intertwined with hers. He looked at the women longingly, as if he hadn't seen her for years.

"We don't have long Clarke," the man with the bow tie said. "Listen carefully. As far as we know, you don't know who we are, correct?"

He was anticipating for an answer, I nodded in agreement.

"Good...no not good," he stumbled as the red haired woman glared at him. "Amy, Rory and I are all trapped and can't get out. There are cells where we all were and we got put in them." His hands pointed to the three of them.

"They have taken the TARDIS away and you. And if I'm correct, your memories as well. That means you don't remember anything."

I slowly nodded, confusion causing my head to hurt. A rumbling sound came from beyond the doors behind them. The man snapped his head behind him, worry creeping in.

"Listen Clarke, now listen. This is important. I am the Doctor. Okay? The Doctor. This is Amy and Rory. We are stuck within _W.I.C.K.E.D_ and they have taken the TARDIS. Wherever you are, you need to get out."

A sudden blaring noise came from behind the three figures in front of me.

"Look at me Clarke, look at me. Something is out there hunting us down, not sure what, but it is. We are sitting ducks if we stay here any longer, get out and find us."

I heard distant shouting through the doors. Amy gave a cry of sorrow as Rory disappeared. A tear rolled down her cheek as she whispered something. She quickly turned to the Doctor and roughly said. "Just tell her what to do for god sakes."

Worry and fear within both of their eyes, the Doctor's message was delivered to me. "Find River Song, get the TARDIS and find her. She will know what to do, and so will you."

The doors swung open and with that the Doctor and Amy were pulled threw.

"I don't know what you are talking about. Please. Who is River Song?" I shouted to the two figures as they flew away from me. Words were forming on their lips, but I couldn't hear a word of what they were saying. The wind rushed passed, threatening to take me with them if I didn't hold on tight to the bed.

Blinking, my vision slowly returned, and Newt returned on the end of my bed his mouth moving, but no words coming out. When I finally adjusted, I heard what he said.

"Clarke? Clarke? Ya alright?" He moved forward, taking my ever whitening hands gently away from the bed, electricity shooting through my body. "Ya look like you've seen a ghost."

I snatched my hand away from his and returned to looking into the bag. I pulled a small bottle, with blue liquid stored within. A label was stuck on the side with thin wiry writing on it. _Take in emergencies_, was what it said. Placing my hand on top of the bottle, I unscrewed the top. A pungent smell drifted its way up my noise, and I slightly choked on it. Newt looked at my curiously, his hand now placed on my leg. Wait, what?

"What's that?" He asked, staring at the bottle in my hand.

"No idea," I replied. Something was pulling at my mind, tugging at the memories to come back. I knew what this blue stuff did, but I couldn't pinpoint what exactly. "There's only one way to find out."

Before he could protest, I raised the bottle to my lips, and drunk the cool blue liquid within. It tasted disgusting. No words can describe how vile that stuff actually was. An itchy, dry sensation rose within throat, prickling at my nerve endings. I started to claw at my throat as the liquid burned down my body. I couldn't breathe, my throat was on fire. The only relieving pain came from my ankle, which started as a cool soothing numbness, but went eventually joined in with the burning fire.

A pair of hands quickly grabbed my arms, and I was pulled into someone's body. The pain was unbearable, but I would not cry out. I bit down on my lip as hard as I could, forcing my mouth shut. No noise would come from these lips. A loud noise came from the somewhere in the room, and voices were exchanged. They were of no use, unless they could rid the fire within they could stay, if not then they can all just go away.

What felt like hours had passed were only a few minutes. The fire started to die down, and eventually diminished into a cold numbness. I my eyes flickered open to see a set of tried, grumpy boys staring down at me, cocooned within Newt's arms. I shoved myself out of where I sat and fell on the floor in a heap. I stood up graciously, intent to stare down anyone that would try and challenge me.

The Asian kid from before stood at the door way, arms folded with a scowl on his face. Eyes were narrowed and darted my way. I must have woken some of them up from struggling through the fire. Not wanting to be part of the freak show, I picked up my fallen bag on the floor and shoved past them; making my way out of the Homestead.

Once outside, I headed towards the glade of trees, making sure that I was well hidden from everyone. I tiptoed over the sleeping boys on the ground, making sure that I didn't disturb them. Clear of watching my step, I felt the urge to run, so I did. I sprinted within the trees intent of not being found.

After a few minutes of running, I came to an eventful stop. My ankle did not even hurt, not once. Turning my head behind me, I made sure no one was following. The coast clear, I walked over to the nearest tree and started to climb.

When I was high enough, I positioned myself in a sitting position on a branch that I was sure that would take my weight. There was a high possibility that I may fall if I fell asleep, so I removed my belt, hooked within my trousers, and securely fastened myself to the branch. The bag once again placed on top of my lap, I opened it to see what had been stuffed inside and how much of it I could remember.

Pads of paper was stuffed and crumbled inside, some with ends ripped and curling. It was dark within the cover of trees, so I searched some more for something that could produce light. After a few minutes of searching, I found an odd looking device. Pulling it out, I inspected it. The device was made some bronze metal, with claws holding something together at the top. Spinning the device around, it made no sense to me, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew what this was.

A metallic clicking noise diverted my attention away from this strange device, and I glanced up to see one of them strange creatures that Chuck had described - beetle blade. Instinct taking over, I pointed the device at the creature and pressed a button. A green light project from the end, and a strange noise came from inside. Instantly, the creature started to fizz and whirr as it spun around in its spot. The red dots flickered once, and died. Just before it fell out of my reach, I bent down and caught it, intent of finding out what makes this thing go tick. This creature was massive, about 10 inches in length, with strange words written across the top, which looked like to be blood. _W.I.C.K.E.D_

Stuffing the creature and device into my bag once again, I rummaged through some more, trying to find something of some worth. Within a pocket I find a thin flimsy case with blank paper stored inside. "What the heck is this?" I whisper to myself, turning the paper around, trying to make sense of this strange article.

I heard my name whispered across the tress, and I knew that someone was out here looking for me. I carefully placed the wallet back into its position in my bag, and sat very still. I didn't want to be dragged back just yet. I need time alone, even if it means staying up a tree for days.

Twigs snapped, and leafs crunched as a figure walked my way. No not walked, limped. _Ah, crap,_ I thought. _Why is he so intent on following me?_ Newt had walked under the tree to where I was hidden. I took a deep breathe in, making sure that I made no sound to revel where I was hidden.

"Clarke?" he called, worry laced within his words. Something stirred within my bag, tiny japs coming from inside. Slowly opening the top, I saw two red dots glaring back at me. Whatever the device intended to do, it didn't work. The beetle blade moved back and forth, its long legs trying to escape its leather prison. I gave out a stifle cry, and quickly unbuckled my belt, letting it fall to the ground. A grunt came from below; it must have hit Newt on the head. Not wanting to be distracted, I quickly placed my hand within the bag, and tried desperately to find the device once more. The creature squirmed as it tried to turn around in the bag; it's probably intention to bite me. My fingers curled around the cold metal, giving a cry of relief, I yanked the device out and pointed it on top of the creature before it could launch at my face. My hand securely on top, I pressed the button once more, making sure that I could finish the job properly this time.

It gave a long fight, thrashing and scratching trying to stay alive. But, eventually the red dots died, and once more the beetle blade was still. Unsure if it was truly died, I grabbed both ends of the creature, and pulled it apart, sparks flying as wires no longer flowed with electricity

"What the hell are you doin'?" I voice said. Unaware of what was happening beside me, I jumped in shock and dropped my prize. It, along with my bag, fell to the ground with a large _thud_. I felt myself falling forward, gravity pulling me towards the ground. An arm quickly wrapped itself around my waist as I almost fell with my bag. The world paused for a moment; I felt the cool wind on my face tickling my chin and nose. My hair blew slightly, as if it was ribbons dancing in the air. The world felt perfect, just for a second. Just for a mere measly little second.

Shaking myself out of the daydream, I turned to face the person the arm belonged to, and found that it was Newt there, holding me in place.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" I demanded, anger rising up inside of me.

"Savin' your shucking life," Newt rebuked back. A smile started to curl onto his lips. "But if you don't want it saved, I can just let go."

He released his arm from around my waist, and I felt myself falling forward. Quickly turning around, I grabbed onto Newt and secure my arms around his neck making sure that I wouldn't fall. I felt his body vibrate as he chuckled away, obviously finding this situation hilarious.

Lifting my head from his shoulders, I hissed in his ear. "Get me down, and I won't hurt you."

"Ya won't" he said laughing, not taking my threat seriously. Raising an eyebrow, I stared him down. I was not going to give this up.

"Fine, you win." Newt giggled as he helped me on to the branch once more. Firmly sitting on the branch, I waited for him to make his way down so that I could also get out of this damn tree and pick up my fallen bag. I waited and waited, what is his problem? Is he frozen or something? Is he scared?

"Erm...we need to get down, like now." I said in a questionable tone. The boy just seemed to stare at the floor, with a sense of hopelessness in his eyes. I touched his shoulder lightly, just to see if he would respond. He did not. Whatever was happening, Newt was not on this earth. Panic rising up, I whispered once again to try and get his attention. Nothing. Unable to get the boy to move, I calculated a reasonable escape route that would get us out of the tree. Not the safe way, mind you.

Positioning myself so that I faced Newt, I placed my hands on the rough bark and pushed up. My legs reached out so that they brushed the branch that he was standing on. Closing my eyes and counting to three, I pushed myself onto Newt, causing him to lose balance and fall. We both crash, tumbled and wallop as we fell from the tree. Branches broke as we crashed through them, leaves flying everywhere.

With a loud _thud_ Newt landed on the floor, with me crashing on top of him. With a grunt, he shook his head and gave me a very angry look.

"What the shuckin' hell did you do? I-I-I could have broken somethin' for all you know. Why? _Why?_" he said to me dazed. I wasn't completely aware of what I did myself. To me, that was the only reasonable explanation to get down from the tree.

"I told you if you didn't get me down, I would...erm..._shucking _hurt you?" I wheezed, feeling strange putting the foreign word into my vocabulary.

"Okay, point proven. Now can you get the shuck off me, you way an absolute tonne," Newt laughed as I rose from my position on top of him. "The Reckless Clarke should be your name. Anything you do puts people on edge. Make them klunck their pants."

I giggled at this comment. But, why? It wasn't funny or anything, I just laughed. Out of nervousness or sheer delight, I do not know.

Now placed in a sitting position beside the boy on the floor, I had a desire to ask him a few questions. "Why didn't you move when I asked? I mean, the look on your face was a bit creepy. Are you afraid of something?"

"No," Newt snapped, as he sat up straight, all humour good. "Nothing is wrong, it's just I've been 'ere too long. That's what."

With that, he stood up from his position on the floor. A hand extended towards my way, his face showed a gleaming grin lightening up the dark woods. "Now, I do believe that you and the new Greenie have yet to see the terrible monsters out in the maze. It's time to go meet the Grievers."


	7. Chapter 7 - The Grievers

It took me a few minutes to try and stuff everything back into my fallen bag; it all seemed to fit when I first got it. Forcing the bag shut, I noticed the device that I had used on the beetle blade was lying on the ground, reaching out to grab it; I stuffed it into my trouser pocket. Who knows when I will have a use for it next.

Satisfied with my handy work, I lifted the very heavy bag onto my shoulder, and followed Newt to where he was headed through the trees. I brushed off twigs and leaves that had secured itself on me when I had taken a tumble through the tree. My hair was a mess, but I couldn't do much about that as the Creators conveniently didn't provide a brush anywhere in the Glade. My only option, steal a fork from Frypan's kitchen; I'm sure he won't mind.

Catching up to Newt, we walked in silence as we made our way out of the trees and into the slightly lit Glade. It was early morning, the sky dark, but green light splashed where the sun started to rise. Clearly distracted, a hand guided me where I was walking, causing my feet to trip from the sudden change of direction. Grabbing on to the arm, I secured myself and stood up to make myself balanced. If Newt wasn't there, then I would have collided with the hunched figure on the floor, cocooned within a sleeping bag, and fallen on my face. I smiled and whispered a thank you before we carried on with our mission.

Carefully stepping over sleeping figures, we made our way to the opposite side of the Glade where two figures laid against a tree. From the smallest of the two, I could see a cluster of curls sprouting from the top. That was Chuck, so the figure next to him must be the new Greenbean.

Newt motioned for me to stay where I was, as he shook the shoulders of the Greenie. The Greenie's eyes snapped open. His eyes trying to focus on the person who woke him up. His mouth about to open, Newt quickly placed a hand over it, making sure it stayed shut. The Greenie started to panic, his eyes widening.

"Shh, Greenie. Don't wanna be wakin' Chuckie, now, do we?"

The boy seemed to relax, and nodded in agreement with Newt, his eyes trying to say yes as best he could. Newt finally removed his hand away from the Greeine's mouth, and then leaned back on his heels.

"Come on Greenie," Newt whispered as he stood. He reached down and helped the Greenie to his feet. "Supposed to show ya somethin' before the wake up."

"Okay," he simply said ready to follow. Greenie quickly leaned over and slipped on his shoes. "Where are we going?"

"Just follow me. And stay close."

Newt indicated for me to approach close, and we both snuck our way through the tightly strewn pack of sleeping bodies. Looking behind me I could see the Greenie tripping over several times. An earning sharp cry of pain came behind us as I turned to see a sleeping body punch the Greenie in the calf. He must have stood on his head.

"Sorry," the boy whispered. He ignored my stifled giggle and a dirty look from Newt.

Once we had left the lawn area and stepped onto the hard grey stone of the courtyard floor, Newt broke into a run, heading for the western wall. I followed quickly behind, trying to keep up with his pace. My bag jingled dragging me down with every step. Gosh, what the heck was stuffed in this thing? I turned my head to see the Greenie hesitate for a second, possibly wondering what was going, but quickly snapped out of it and ran after us.

The light was dim, but any obstructions loomed as darker shadows, and I was able to make my way quickly along. I stopped when Newt stopped, the Greenie not far behind us. We had stopped right next to the massive walls that towered like a skyscraper. This is the closet I had been since my attempted escape on the first day. I felt uneasy here, shifting on both feet waiting for something to happen.

"What are those?" Greenie whispered loudly, his voice sounding a tad shaky. I looked up to see what he was talking about. A twinkle of red lights held an undercurrent warning towards us. Not more shucking beetle blades, I thought while my hand hovered over my trouser pocket where my device sat, my fingers ready to snap it out in case any of those things launched at my face again.

Newt stood a couple of feet in front of the thick curtain of ivy on the wall. "When you bloody need to know, you'll know Greenie."

"Well, it's kind of stupid to send me to a place where nothing makes sense and not answer my questions." The Greenie paused, unsure what to say next. "Shank," he added, sarcasm definitely thrown into that last part.

Newt broke out into a laugh, but it was quickly cut off as my bag fell from my shoulder. Both boys turned to stare at me; they must have forgotten that I was even there. Slightly embarrassed, I bent down to pick it back up again.

"Leave it where it is, we are where we need to be." Newt whispered to me. Relief flushed through me, that bag was bloody heavy.

Newt turned to the Greenie and said, "I like you Greenie. Now shut it and let me show you guys somethin'"

He stepped forward and dug his hands into the thick ivy, spreading several vines away from the wall to reveal a dust-frosted window, a square about two feet wide. It was dark at the moment, as if it had been painted black.

"What're you looking for?" The Greenie whispered.

"Hold your undies, boy. One'll be comin' along soon enough."

Newt turned his head to me as he rolled his eyes. A smile planted on my face as he returned to stare out the dark window. A minute passed, then two more. Several more. The Greenie fidgeted on his feet, he was definitely not the patient type.

A shuffling sound came beside me; I gazed up to see that the Greenie now stood beside me words forming on his mouth.

"I'm Thomas," he whispered to me in my ear. I turned to look at him, to really study what he looked like. Thomas was tall (taller than me) with dark brown hair and brown eyes, with dark bags under his eyes. His old life must have been tough on him if he is still carrying the burden now. He wore a light blue shirt that seemed to fit snugly around his body. I could have gone on and on all day, but a waiting light appeared in his eyes, he wanted a reply.

Sticking out my hand, I replied "Clarke."

"Clarke?"

"Yeah, problem?"

"No, it's just..." He paused for a minute, his face scrunching up in a ball as if he was trying to remember something. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" I pushed. What is wrong with this kid? Thomas must have seen my anger start to boil up; he shuffled back slightly not sure on what he was supposed to do.

"Why did you go ... erm ... shucking ... crazy yesterday?"

I gave the Greenie the dirtiest look I could give. If one more word came from his mouth, I swear I will punch him.

"Remember Clarke, rule two." Newt whispered, his eyes still fixed through the window. Ah yes, rule number two _'don't harm another Glader.'_ Or something along them lines.

"I wasn't going to hurt him, I was along going to shake him up a bit," I mumbled, relieved that Newt interrupted, what could have been a messy situation.

Not wanting to talk to Thomas anymore, I walked over to the window to join Newt in his staring game with darkness. I studied his intent face, his eyes trying to search for something or just waiting. My eyes drifted from his face and through the window. The darkness was a dark darkness, a voice swimming around my head, my recent dreaming flashing in and out. I had a funny feeling that the face and claws that stood in front of me wasn't a dream that I had imagined inside my head, but a memory. A memory that I must have survived if I was here now.

An eerie light suddenly shone through the window, casting a wavering spectrum on my body and face, as if I stood next to a swimming pool. A small smile creeped across my lips as a fuzzy memory leaked in. Me running into a cold blue sea, hand in hand with a young girl grinning in delight. The girl had long brown hair and very big blue eyes that matched the colour of the sea we jumped in to. She tripped and stumbled, but still was able to make it to the water, shouting for us to run faster. We giggled and shrieked as we played along the white beach, the waves trying to catch us as we run back and forth. A soft voice called for us and I looked up to see the figure of a women slowly walking towards us; a grin on her face and her long dark red hair whipping in the sea breeze.

"Out there's the Maze," Newt whispered, whipping me out of the warm fuzzy memory I had. Shaking my head I saw that his eyes were wide as if he was in a trance. "Everything we do - our life Greenies - revolves around the Maze. Every lovin' second of every lovin' day we spend in honour of the Maze, tryin' to solve somethin' that's not shown us it has a bloody solution, ya know? And we want to show ya why it's not to be messed with. Show ya why them buggin' walls close shut every night. Show why you two should never, never find your butt out there."

Newt stepped slightly back, still holding the ivy vines within his hands. He gestured for Thomas to take his place next to me and look through the window.

Thomas did, leaning forward until his nose touched the surface of the glass. His eyes widened a gasp coming from his mouth. Thomas had found something, and I wanted to see it as well. My eyes snapped back to looking through the glass window; it took a second for them to focus on the moving object on the other side, to look past the grime and dust and see what Newt wanted me to see, and what Thomas had found. A breath caught in my throat like an icy wind had blown down there and frozen the air solid.

A large, bulbous creature the size of a cow but with no distinct shape twisted and seethed along the ground in the corridor outside. It climbed the opposite wall, then leaped at the thick-glassed window with a loud thump. Thomas beside me shrieked in terror as he gripped my hand in fright. He jerked away from the window, almost tearing my arm out of its socket. Terror was within his eyes, as the thing bounced backward, leaving the glass undamaged.

The Greenie sucked in two large breathes and leaned in once again, never letting go of my hand. Thomas was scared, but brave. He was willing to look once more at the creature, whereas I was only scared for my hand not dropping off. I surprised myself, I wasn't taken back by the large creature, or even scared by the hideous body it wore. Something pulled at the back if my head, whispering to me that this is nothing to what I had witnessed before. It dawned on me that the person that I was someone that had a huge amount of bravery and courage, and had seen things that could not be explained, ever.

I turned my head back to the darkness to see odd lights flashing from an unknown source, revealing blurs of silver spikes and glistening flesh. Wicked instruments-tipped appendages protruded from its body like arms: a saw blade, a set of shears, long rods whose purpose could only be guessed.

The creature was a horrific mix of animal and machine, and seemed to realise it was being observed, seemed to know what lied inside the walls of the Glade, seemed to want to get inside and feast on human flesh. Temptation for curiosity, I was drawn to be out there, no idea why, but I felt the need to study this creature, to understand what makes it go tick. Just like the beetle blade. I needed to know.

Thomas finally let go of my crushed hand and took a step back. His courage must have melted away like an evening.

I stepped back from the window, no longer wanting to look at them disgusting creatures. I joined Newt to where he was stood, a hint of annoyance flickered in his eyes. His arms were crossed; no smirk was on his face. It felt strange to see him there, not smiling, all the time I had been around him he was either laughing at me or well, mainly at me.

"What's wrong?" I whispered to him.

"Nothin'," he replied through gritted teeth.

"Yeah sure, you look like a cat that has been dragged through a bush, backwards." I laughed, trying to cheer him up. It didn't work, something was bothering him.

"What is that thing?" Thomas asked, oblivious to the our small conversation.

"Grievers, we call 'em," Newt answered. "Nasty buggers, eh? Just be glad the Grievers only come out at night. Be thankful for these walls"

Thomas seemed to be in a trance with that thing. First day is a lot for a new Greenie, I knew that all too well. Newt left my side and walked to the window next to Thomas. He looked at through it absently. "Now you know what bloody lurks in the Maze. Now you know this isn't joke time. You've been sent to the Glade, Greenie, and we'll be expectin' ya to survive and help us do what we've sent here to do."

I walked away from my position and stalked to my bag. Picking up the leather strap, I heaved it over my head and on to the other shoulder. The first traces of dawn had crept up on us while we were here.

"Find our way out," Newt said behind me, I must have missed what they were going on about. "Solve the buggin' Maze and find our way home."

* * *

><p>A couple of hours later, the doors reopened, rumbling and grumbling and shaking the ground until they were finished. Newt had left us for the morning; my guess was that he had to help the med-jacks with Ben. He seemed to be in a foul mood when he limped away, crashing through the door of the Homestead. I tried to follow, but decided to leave him cool down. Better that then have my head bitten off.<p>

I stayed with Thomas who was seated on a worn, tilted picnic table outside the Homestead. Greenie was not much of a talker once we had sat down, only grumbling muted words whenever I tried to start a conversation. The Grievers must have disturbed him quite a lot.

With early morning daylight lighting up the Glade, I now had the advantage of looking through my heavy bag. Dropping it on the table with a crash, I flipped open the top and started to pull random objects out. The strange wallet I once again inspected, and to my amazement was blank, nothing on it. _Well, this is useless_, I thought as I chucked it back into my bag.

Next I pulled out a notepad to see if it had any hints as to who I was or why there were words written on my arm. Flicking through them, there were streams and streams of circular patterns, on every single page. They were incredibly pretty, intricate patterns being made from them, but again they were useless to me. The ends of the pages were frayed and ripped, with specks of blood dotted on some. These papers went through something bad, something that happened before I arrived. Making no use of the circular patterns, I stuffed the pad back into my bag and spotted a knife at the bottom covered in blood. Curiosity willing me, I pulled it out and discovered that the knife was covered in the reddish brown stuff, which was sticky and had started to crack in places; the blood that was on there must have been at least a week old. A week old. That's how long I have been here. Realisation hit me like a wall; this is the instrument must have been used to write the message on my arm, there was no other explanation for it. _I must have done this to myself_, I thought. The words are a message to me from me. The blood on the knife was mine. But, I couldn't fathom any thoughts as to what the message could mean.

Tired and hungry, I rose from the table to grab a bite to eat from Frypan. He handed me a plate full of eggs and bacon steaming in my face. My stomach grumbled at the food, I was definitely hungry. I missed lunch and dinner yesterday, my stomach not too pleased with what I had done; I bet it felt betrayed for all the food I had missed.

"Someone tryin' to start an earthquake over there," Frypan said as a cheesy grin snaked across his face. I rolled my eyes and walked back to where I had left my bag and Thomas. Sitting down, I watched as he picked at his food with a fork. Something was on his mind. He spoke to no one, not even when Chuck who came bounding over with a smile. The poor guy had exhausted himself trying to start a conversation with Thomas, who'd refused to respond. It seemed like he wanted to be left alone.

Seeing the kid's eyes sadden, I spoke to him instead. Who needs an arrogant Greenie.

"What have you been up to this morning, Chuck?"

"Nothing much. Got a bit worried when Thomas wasn't there when I woke, but I figured Newt must have shown him the Grievers."

"Okay."

Our conversation was cut short when Alby approached us and tapped Thomas on the shoulder. Jarring from his thoughts, he looked up to see Alby standing there, arms folded.

"Ain't you lookin' fresh," Alby said. "Get a nice view out the window this morning? Oh look, isn't it the shank you woke everyone up this morning."

A glare was thrown my way, he might not have been too happy about my little stunt that I pulled this morning, early this morning. It wasn't really my fault if you think about it, I didn't know what was going to happen if I drank that liquid. For all they knew, it could have killed me, and then that would have been a far greater problem then they already had.

Confusion rushed across Chuck's face as he tried to deceiver the glare that Alby had thrown my way, trying to understand what was going on. Lucky for me, none of the Gladers sleeping outside heard what went on inside, but seeing as most of the Keepers were present in my room when I stormed out, it wouldn't surprise me if someone (Gally) told them about the girl who cried like a shank, which in fact didn't happen.

"I'll tell you later," I whispered to him, giving him a wink I returned my attention to Alby and Thomas who was now standing.

"Enough to make me want to learn about this place," Thomas said, carefully picking his words so that he wouldn't provoke the temper Alby had when he was mad.

Alby nodded. "Me and you, shank. The Tour begins now." He started to move but stopped, holding up a finger. "Ain't no questions till the end, you get me? Ain't got time to jaw with you all day."

"But..." Thomas stopped when Alby's eyebrow shot up, he's going to push it isn't he? "But tell me everything-I wanna know everything" I let out a breath of air that I hadn't realised I had been holding. This kid almost ended up as Greenie meat splatted across the floor if he started to ask any questions.

"I'll tell ya what I wanna tell ya, Greenie. Let's go."

"Can I come?" Chuck's voice squeaked from the table we were sat at.

Alby reached down and trawled the boy's ear.

"Ow!" Chuck shrieked.

"Ain't you got a job, slinthead?" Alby asked. "Lots if sloppin' to do?"

Chuck rolled his eyes, then looked at Thomas. "Have fun."

"What about me, what do I do today?" I piped up. Usually Alby came along and told exactly who I was with each day and showed me where I was to go.

He turned with a flare of anger in his eyes. "Wait there till Newt comes down, he'll tell you what you're doing today."

And with that, he turned in his heels and stored off, Thomas walking behind him to start his official Tour of the Glade.


	8. Chapter 8 - The Surprise

It was a while before Newt eventually made his way down from the Homestead and greeted me where I sat on my worn picnic table. By this time it was about mid-morning; most of the Gladers had finished their breakfast, cleared away their plates and got on with their daily jobs. I felt awkward sitting there, alone, on the picnic table, with nothing to do. No longer had I felt the desire to look through the contents of the bag, which had gone when I found the knife at the bottom, smothered in what must have been my blood. The shock of the possibility that important information had been taken away from me didn't make the contents of the bag appealing anymore. It seemed a burden to look through them and crave for an answer that I could not understand.

I was so incredibly tired from my lack of sleep the night before; my head drooped down, my eyelids fluttering shut, ending the stinging that they was rising in my eyes. I was close to falling asleep until a door swung open violently. I snapped my head to see Newt limping his way through the open doorway headed in my direction. His soft features had once more returned, with a glint of happiness present within his eyes; a smirk snaked across his fine face. This morning's events must have flushed out of his system, hopefully.

Once Newt had made it to where I was sitting, he placed himself opposite where Chuck formerly sat a few hours ago. He placed his worn hands on top of the woodwork, and I watched as his fingers played with one another.

"So?" I said as I raised an eyebrow, my lips twitching into a scowl. I had been waiting here for ages; I deserved to know what I was supposed to do today. "What I'm I doing today?"

"You're going to go through ya bag there. Alby wants to know if there is anythin' of use in there," Newt said abruptly. His hands stop playing with one another; instead they gestured for me to open the bag and reveal the contents, private contents, inside.

"Okay...well..." I paused. I wasn't too sure if I wanted the Gladers to know what was inside the bag, it felt like a private piece of property that I had all to myself, I didn't want anyone intruding claiming it is their own. It was there with me when I entered from the Box (I think); whatever was inside this bag could potentially show me something about my past. A defensive hand placed itself on top of my bag, and I started to drag it towards my chest protecting it as if it was my life.

Rising from the worn picnic table, I lifted the very heavy burden onto my shoulder. Not looking behind, I made straight for the Homestead door. I made my steps large and quick, making sure that I could get to my destination faster, but also that Newt would not be able to catch and grab the bag right off where it sat. Inside the building, I made no hesitation to walk through the door of my room and slam it shut. Shut. Shut. The door wouldn't shut. A foot had snuck its way through.

"Ow, Clarke! Stop slammin' the door on my foot!" a distressed voice whined behind the door. "Ya can't keep runnin' away from your problems all the time. Open the door. Now."

I contemplated for a slight moment. The contents inside the bag may help us escape this maze; I may even find out who I was, and why I was here. Books are weapons was something I was told long ago in a time when I remembered; the books inside that bag I so dearly clutched on to could possibly be the key to the big mystery behind me and this bloody maze.

"Clarke...ow...oww...Clarke!" Newt shouted through the door. "Stop slammin' the shuckin' door on my foot, ain't gonna move it until I get a shuckin' answer, ya slinthead."

I would like to add that I had briefly forgotten that I was continual slamming the door on Newt's foot while I tried to figure out what I wanted to do. I was torn between two frame of minds, do I agree to look through the bag with Newt and let him discover the secrets that I so valuably treasure, or say no and keep hurting a person I like until they turn away to never acknowledge me again and possible have the bag snatched off me while I left it be. It was a hard choice; it would have been easier to just say yes, letting him in. But, something was nagging me to rethink, a gut feeling that I had which expected me to trust it to the end of the world and back. Something was not right with my unexpected arrival into the maze.

Decision made, I stopped torturing the foot trapped within the door and wall, and spoke my demands.

"Fine, I'll let you look through the bag, on one condition. I keep the stuff inside, and we look through it here, privately," I said, words quickly forming on my mouth as my head devised a plan for itself. The foot slowly disappeared from its position, causing my body to close the door. A bang came from the other side; my bones jumping out of their sockets.

"Ya have deal. Now open this shuckin' door before I tear it down," a very angry Newt said through the wooden frame. I had really pushed the button this time. I slowly opened the door, each turn of the hinges causing the door to creak open as if we were in an old rickety house. Newt walked in, grabbed my shoulders, quickly detaching me from the doorframe, closing it shut with one free swing of the leg. We were so close now, our noses almost touching, eyes locked, his breath steady but rising. Not wanted to be intimidated from this guy towering over me, my eyes drifted to study his face instead. I could see a splash of freckles that littered his face, his dark brown eyes lighting up in the sunlight cascading through the window. Marks were creased along every inch, strain of the Glade had really got to him and whatever happened in the past mustn't have been good. A scowl was planted on his face, covering up the smile that could have melted a heart.

"On the bed," Newt said roughly as he pointed his finger towards where I slept. I shook my body free of his tight grip, raising an eyebrow towards him. "Ya bag, put it on the bed."

Removing the heavy load off my shoulder, I flung it towards the bed, items jingling as it crashed on top; the bag jumping as it settled itself. No longer within my grasp, Newt sat down, the bed slightly creaking as it took his weight. He motioned me to come forward, so I did and placed myself opposite, the bag in between us. His hands dragged the bag from its landing position, and flipped the top open effortlessly. Newt's face scrunched up into a tight ball as he tried to decide which item he should pull out first.

After a minute or so, his hand dived in and pulled out one of the various notebooks stuffed within. This notebook was just like the rest, blue, worn and fraying in places. Newt flicked through the book, trying to make sense of the patterns that dotted the page.

"What's all of this?" He asked, eyes glued to the page. "Circles, why are the circles makin' the pattern?"

"I don't know. I don't know what they mean. The patterns are in all the books, see." I motioned to the rest of the stuffed paper in the bag, pulling them out one at a time showing what was drawn inside of them. Each one with a similar pattern design; variations showed when there were different dots and indentations in different places.

"Look, some of these circles are the same," Newt said scanning between two books. He placed one on my lap, and shoved the other into my face. "It's must not be a coincidence that there are repeatin' patterns, it must be a code, like the maze."

"Wait, hold up," I said, pushing the notebook at of my face. "Are you saying that the maze is a code of some sort? And these patterns in the books are a code as well?"

Newt's answer was drowned out by a booming, ringing alarm that came from outside. The book perched on top of my lap clattered to the floor as I jumped from fright. I turned to see if Newt had had the same reaction as me. He wasn't acting scared, just plain confused.

"What's going on?" I ask, determined to understand why the alarm went off. Panic started to build up inside me. The new Greenie had only arrived yesterday, apart from me; another blip had entered the system. Are the Creators sending up another Greenie just like me? Marked, scared, out of place? It could help; I could share the pain with this new person. Tell them that whatever happened down there, don't fret, because hell, I'm not.

"That's weird," was all the came out of Newt as he rose from the bed and walked out of the room. I jumped up after him, intent this time to be part of this new fascination that worked everyone up yesterday. Following closely behind, we passed a crowd of boys all glancing towards the Box, just as confused as I was. Not far from us, I could see Alby and the Greenie halfway through their tour. Thomas was jittering around on the spot, his eyes darting from the Box to me, the Box to me. He turned to Alby, asking a question of doubt. This was new for the Greenie; everything started to go wrong when I arrived, then him, now this new one. He didn't understand what was going on, why there was confusion when he first arrived, and now there is more. To be honest, neither did me. I was just as confused as he was.

Soon enough, Alby set off towards the middle of the Glade at a brisk pace, trying to come to terms with what was going on. I watched as Thomas tried to keep up, asking what was going on with the Box. But it seemed that Alby would not reply, or even slow down his pace.

Lost in thought, I barely noticed as Newt diverted his course; making his way over to where Alby was headed. I only realised I that I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going when I branch whipped me in the face, causing a deep scratch to form under my left eye. A hand grabbed mine, and I was dragged away from the attacking branch towards the small crowd forming in the middle of the Glade.

"Newt, what's going on," Thomas yelled.

Newt glanced over to him, nodded and walked over, dragging me behind. Using his free arm, he swatted Thomas on the back. "Means a bloody Newbie's comin' up the Box." He paused as if expecting Thomas to be impressed. "Right now."

"So?" I replied before Thomas could even form words on his mouth. Newt turned to me, calmly. I looked more closely at him, calmly was not a word I would have placed on this boy, being calm amongst this confused crowd was not what he was, instead he showed more disbelief - maybe even excitement.

"So?" Newt replied, his jaw dropping slightly. "We have never had two Newbies show up in the same month, now we have a third that arrived straight after him, a week after you arrived. That's something not to say so to."

And with that, he realised my hand, and ran off to the Homestead.


	9. Chapter 9 - Greenbean

The alarm finally stopped blaring after a full two minutes. A larger crowd had gathered in the middle of the courtyard around the steel doors waiting for the new Greenie to arrive.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder; I looked over to see that Chuck was standing by my side, squished between me and Thomas.

"How goes it, Greenbean and Clarke?" Chuck asked.

"Fine," Thomas replied. Chuck turned to me, and I shrugged my shoulders. I was unsure about what I really felt; I hadn't really had time to think about it, it was a question I never really asked myself. Thomas pointed toward the doors of the Box. "Why is everyone freaking out? Isn't this how you all got here?"

Chuck shrugged. "I don't know-guess it's always been real regular-like. One a month, every month, same day. Until last week when Clarke turned up, then you. Maybe whoever's in charge realised you too were nothing but a big mistake, sent some else to replace you." He giggled as he elbowed Thomas in the ribs, a high-pitched snicker that made me love this kid even more.

Thomas shot his new friend a fake glare. "You're annoying. Seriously."

"Yeah, but we all buddies, now, right?" Chuck fully laughed this time, a squeaky sort of a snort that started me off with the giggling fits.

"You're not giving him much of a choice, Chuck. What's your secret, do you latch on to them when they are vulnerable," I said in between laughing fits, Chuck snorting at my comment. Thomas didn't join in with the giggles, only stood there with a cheesy smile licking across his face. The truth was that he needed all the friends that he could get to survive the maze, and so did I.

Chuck folded his arms, looking very satisfied with himself. "Glad that's settled between us. Everyone needs a buddy in this place."

Thomas grabbed Chuck by the collar, joking around. "Okay, buddy, then call me by my name. Thomas. Or I'll throw you down the hole after the Box leaves. And you," he said as he released Chuck from his grasp. "Wait a minute, have you guys ever-"

"Tried it," Chuck interrupted before Thomas could finish what he was saying.

"Tried what?" I asked.

"Going down in the Box after it makes a delivery," Chuck answered. "It won't do it. Won't go down until it's completely empty."

"I already knew that, but what about-"

"Tried it,"

"Now what did you try," I groaned, this was getting nowhere.

"Going through the hole after the Box goes down. Can't. Doors will open, but there's just emptiness, nothingness. No ropes. Can't do anything."

That emptiness I knew all too well, a sense of hopelessness that overtook me while I waited inside that cage, alone and confused.

"Did you try-"

"Tried it,"

Thomas groaned this time. "Okay, what?"

"We threw some things into the hole. Never heard them land. It goes on for a long time."

"What about lighting-" I quickly injected, trying to form a solution before I was cut off by the mind-reader.

"Tried it...wait...lighting what?"

"Stuff. Lighting stuff, then chucking it down. It may show you how far it goes on for."

"They probably tried it."

Chuck was a little annoying, but there was something about him that made the situation a whole less terrible. Thomas took a deep breath, and returned to look back towards the crowd. "So, how long until the delivery gets here?"

"Usually takes about half an hour after the alarm goes off."

Thomas paused for a second. _Here comes round two_, I thought. "You're sure about the hole? Have you ever..." He paused, waiting for the interruption to come, but none came. "Have you ever tried making a rope?"

"Yeah, they did. With ivy. Longest one they could make. Let's just say that little experiment didn't go so well."

"Why didn't it go so well?" I ask, curiosity biting at my lips.

"I wasn't here when it happened, but heard the kid volunteered to do go done got about ten feet when something swooshed through the air and cut him in half. Clean." Chuck said as he motioned with his hands the swooshing motion.

"I don't believe you. Bet you're making that up to try and scare Thomas over here," I nervously laughed.

"Oh, yeah, smart guy? I've seen the sucker's bones. Cut in half like a knife through whipped cream. He's kept in a box to remind future Greenies not to be as stupid."

We both, Thomas and I, waited for Chuck to erupt into laughter, a smile beaming across his face as we fell for his joke - who has heard of someone being cut in half? But the anticipated laugh never came. "You're kidding, right?"

Chuck just started back at me, then to Thomas, his mouth hanging wide open like a fish. "I don't lie, Clarke. Come on, let's go over and see who's the new Greenbean."

As we walked over to the Box, I noticed a figure in the crowd staring dead at us. It was Gally.

"Shuck it," Chuck said as he pointed to Gally. "He does not like you's two."

"Why?" I ask. "What has Thomas done to get on the wrong side of him?"

"Don't you know? Stupid me, of course you don't. After you went crazy and everything yesterday, Gally started to push Thomas around saying that he recognised him. It got a bit out of hand, and long story short it ended up with this klunckhead being thrown out of the Homestead."

"That sounds interesting," I say, intent on finding out the whole story. "So what did you do to get yourself thrown out, Thomas?"

Thomas quickly looked down at his shoes, clearly not wanting to answer the question. "I-uh-I-I went upstairs in the Homestead to see if I could help with you or Ben."

Chuck nudged Thomas with his elbow, quickly ending that explanation; I would have to get it out of him at a later date. We continued walking to the edge of the crowd, then waited in silence. A door closed behind us; I turned to see Alby and Newt heading over from the Homestead. Both looked exhausted.

They pushed themselves to the front, standing right over the doors that led to the Box. Everyone quietened, making the grinds and rattles of the Box more prominent as it rose. A muffled boom announced that the elevator had arrived.

I watched in anticipation as Newt and Alby took positions on opposite sides of the shaft doors - a crack formed splitting the metal square right down the middle. Hook-handles were attached on both sides, and together they yanked them apart. With a metallic scrape the doors were opened, and a puff of dust from the surrounding stone rose into the air.

Complete silence settled over the Gladers. _Maybe it was another girl that came, keeping me company_, I thought. It would be nice that I was no longer the odd one out. At least there would be someone else.

As Newt leaned over for a better look into the Box, the faint bleating of a goat in the distance echoed across the courtyard. I etched forward so I could get a glimpse at the Greenie.

With a sudden jerk, Newt pushed himself back into an upright position his face scrunched up in confusion. "I don't think this is good," he breathed, looking around at nothing in particular.

By this time, Alby had gotten a good look as well, with a similar reaction. "What happened down there?" He murmured.

A chorus of questions filled the Glade, boys' intent on finding out why Newt and Alby were shocked. Everyone pushing forward to get a glimpse into the small opening. _What's going on_? I thought. I had only been here a week, and bad things had already started to happening.

"Everyone move back," Alby shouted, silencing everyone. "Move back!"

"Well, what's wrong?" someone shouted back.

Alby stood up. "Three Newbies in a week," he said, almost in a whisper. "Now this. Two years, nothing different, now this." Then at some reason he looked directly at Thomas and I. "What's goin' on here, Greenies?"

I stared back, confused, my face turning the shade of scarlet, my gut clenching. No doubt Thomas was feeling the same.

"How am I supposed to know?" I roughly replied. "Don't know anything that goes on here!"

"Why don't you just tell us what the shuck is down there, Alby?" Gally called out. There were more murmurs and another surge forward.

"You shanks shut up," Alby yelled. "It's not what ya think, tell 'em Newt."

Newt looked down in the Box one last time, then faced the crowd gravely.

"It's another boy," Newt started. His response greeted with disapproving murmurs. "But, as Alby has said it's not what ya think."

Everyone started to talk at once; I was only able to catch pieces here and there about why this shank was causing a scene.

Newt shushed them again. "That's not bloody half of it," he said, then pointed down the Box. "I think he's dead."

* * *

><p>A couple of boys grabbed some ropes made from ivy and lowered Alby and Newt into the Box so that could bring the boy's body up. Around me, boys were milling about with solemn faces, kicking loose rocks and not saying much at all. No one dared to admit that they couldn't wait to see the new Greenie, and how much fuss he had caused. All for, I was just as curious. Why would the Creators send me up, the only girl, then two boys a week later? One alive, one dead. It made no sense. Nothing made any sense.<p>

From deep in the shaft came Alby's voice, and Gally and a couple of others started pulling on the rope. A few grunts later, the lifeless body of the boy was dragged out, across the edge of the door and onto one of the stone blocks making up the ground of the Glade. Everyone immediately ran forward, forming a packed crowd around the dead boy.

"Weak shank, couldn't even survive the journey up."

"Alby, what are we going to do now?"

Despite my curiosity, I stayed back, I didn't bother to try and force my way through the tightly packed crowd. But, I was able to catch a glimpse of him before being blocked off. He was a thin olive skinned boy, but not too small, more muscles. Maybe six foot, from what I could tell. He looked like he was about eighteen, nineteen; his hair was dark and surprisingly short. But the thing that stood out most for me was the dark long gash that marked his face.

Newt and Alby scrambled out of the Box, then forced their way through to the boy's lifeless body, the crowd re-forming behind to cut them off my view. Only a few seconds later did the group part again, and Newt was pointing straight at me.

"Clarke, come over," he said, worry creeping in.

My heart jumped into my throat; my hands sweating. I forced myself forward, knowing that all eyes were directed at me. The boys lining the path glared at me as I passed, as if I was the on me responsible for Thomas and the new Greenie for turning up. I refused to make eye contact with anyone apart from Newt, making sure that I didn't look guilty.

"Greenie, get over here," came Newt again, this time pointing at Thomas.

I approached Newt and stood beside him as I waited for Thomas to arrive. I was trembling with fear, why does everything go wrong when I turn up? Newt stood up from his crouched position next to the boy and whispered within my ear. "Ya can tell me if you know anythin', do you know this shank? Recognise him?"

I looked up to Newt's eyes and shook my head fearlessly. He eyes spoke with slight disappointment, his mouth twitching as if to say something more. Newt broke the gaze off and turned to face Thomas.

"You know this boy, shank?" Alby asked, sounding ticked off.

Thomas looked shocked from the question aimed towards him. How could he possible know this dead boy, his memories were gone. "Know him? Of course I don't know him, I don't know anyone. Except you guys."

"That's not what I meant. I meant does he look familiar at all? Any kind of feelin'?" Alby said, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Clarke, you must. You were covered in blood when you first arrived."

I was slightly taken back with what was said. I was covered in blood when I first arrived. Yeah sure, maybe on my arm, but covered in it.

"What do you mean covered?" I asked, slightly confused.

"You mean you haven't told her yet, Newt." Alby said his voice slightly softening towards me. He held up a hand. "Wait until later, one problem at a time.

"Well, Greenie, anything?"

"No. Nothing," Thomas shifted, looked down at his feet, then back to where the boy lay.

Alby's forehead creased. "Are you both sure?" He looked like he didn't believe a word that we said no matter how much we said no.

I shifted in my spot awkwardly, staying close to Newt's side. Alby was glaring at Thomas, angry at him for causing the situation.

"Shuck it," Alby muttered, looking down at the boy. "Can't be a coincidence. One week, three Greenies, one crazy, one alive, one dead."

"Hey, who you call-" I started, demanding why I was the crazy one. But before I could go any further, Newt had pulled me back and clamped a hand over my mouth to stop me from talking. I squirmed slightly trying to free myself, but I wasn't going anywhere.

"You don't think I ..." Thomas started.

"Slim it, Greenie," Newt said. "We're not sayin' you bloody killed the boy."

Muffled noises came out of my mouth, which was still securely shut by Newt's hand. Did they think it was me? Well, as Alby said, I did arrive here covered in blood.

"Not you either, Clarke," Newt whispered in my ear. My mind was spinning. I wasn't sure that I recognised this boy, or even Thomas. But something poked at the back of my mind that I somehow knew them, recognised them. Not in a good way. Are they like me? A person that the Doctor is trying to find?

"I swear he doesn't look familiar at all," Thomas said, anger rising with each word that he said.

"Are you-"

Before Newt could finish, the boy shot up into a sitting position. As he sucked in a huge breath, his eyes snapped open and he blinked, looking at the crowd that surrounded him. Alby cried and fell backwards. Newt gasped and jumped, bringing me down with him as we crashed to the floor. Thomas didn't move, his gaze locked with the boy sat on the ground, frozen in fear.

Bright green eyes darted back and forth as he took deep breaths. His mouth mumbling words over and over again.

"_Rachel?_ Rachel?"

His darting eyes started to die down as he recollected where he was. He turned to Thomas, words once again sprouting from his mouth.

"Thomas? Where's Rachel? Thomas, what are you doing here?"

I rose into a sitting position, edging forward to the boy to see if I could help with his confusion. The boy's head snapped to my position and he quickly shuffled himself in my direction, his hands trying to grab at something. I tried to back up, and escape from the purser. I wasn't fast enough, he gripped my left wrist tightly, and forced my sleeve up, revealing the writing craved there. Fear and panic mixed together as I tried to free myself. His grip was tight and unforgiven as he forced my arm up into the air. The boy locked eyes with me, his burning green eyes shooting me down. His mouth once again formed words, but this time it was just one - his voice hollow and haunted, but clear.

"Bad."

I stared in fear as the boy's eyes rolled up into his head and he fell back to the ground, reloading my arm from his strong grip. His right fist shot into the air as he landed, staying rigid as he grew still, pointing towards the sky. Clutched in her hand was a wadded piece of paper.

I tried to sallow but I was too scared to even move. The dead boy had woken and launched himself on me, calling me _bad_. I raised my shaky hand and pulled his fingers apart, grabbing the paper that was inside. With the paper inside my hands, I kicked the boy off my legs and shakily opened the note to reveal a message. Newt and Thomas had moved to my side, trying to get a look at what the message said.

Scrawled across the paper in thick black letters were five words:

_He's the last one._

_Ever._


	10. Chapter 10 - The Rose

An odd moment of silence came over the Glade, as if a large vacuum had been placed above and sucked out all the sound. The dead boy, now lying on the ground, was now not dead anymore. Newt had taken the paper gently from my hands and read it aloud for those who couldn't see it, but instead of erupting in confusion, the Gladers all stood dumbfounded.

I was expecting some shouts, questions, even an argument happening. No, nothing of the sort came out. All eyes were glued to the boy lying on the floor as if he was asleep, his chest slowly rising and falling with shallow breaths. He was very much alive, and we knew it.

I stood up from my position on the floor, and backed up; my eyes glued to the boy, making sure that he wouldn't jump up and attack me again. Newt had risen along with me and gently took my elbows, guiding me away from the crowd. I was still in shock about what happened; I couldn't really come to terms with the events that just past. We walked to a nearby tree, far from the Gladers but that bit close so we wouldn't miss anything if it happened. Letting go of me, I sunk down the tree, the rough bark scrapping my back as I fell.

"It's alright," Newt whispered as he knelt down beside me. "He couldn't have meant you. He remembers jack all."

I whimpered in response, small tears falling down my checks. I tried my absolute best not to stick out, to be hidden among the crowd, but it seems that whatever I did always ended up as centre of attention. This was not supposed to be happening. Why was I sent here? Was I a mistake? Was Chuck right? I don't know, I don't know goddamn anything.

A fit of frustration over took me, and I started to rub the writing on my arm, trying to remove its existence. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, it wouldn't go. Nothing would go.

"Stop that!" Newt exclaimed as he quickly turned around and grabbed my hands. "Ya goin' to make it worse if you keep do in' that."

"I don't want it. None of this. I want to go home!" I growled as I tried to yank my hands from his grip. But, my hands would not free. He wouldn't let go of my hands. "Let go of my hands. Now!"

With that, Newt dropped my hands onto my lap. He stood up from his knelt position, his hand trailing through his hair. His dark eyes focused back to the scene over by the Box. Letting out a deep sigh, he turned and slid down the side of the tree till he was sat next to me, his head resting on the bark, his eyes closed. I watched for a few moments as he quietly inhaled and exhaled, as if he was asleep. It wouldn't have surprised me if he had.

"Haven't you got something better to do then sit here?" I questioned to Newt, hoping he would hear me.

"Yes, I do," Newt replied, not opening his eyes. "But, Alby said this mornin' that I was supposed to watch ya, in case you do anythin' ... weird."

I grunted in response, I turned my view to the commotion that was going over by the Box. The Med-Jacks had appeared soon after I was whisked away, called over by Alby, who wanted them to move the now unconscious boy into the Homestead. How did I know this? Alby had been shouting these commands for the past five minutes, becoming very frustrated with every word he spoke. The shorter guy out of the Med-jacks bent down to examine the boy on the ground. After a few moments he stood up from his position speaking to Alby on his left. With a flick of his wrists, Alby seemed to nod in agreement with what was said. My eyes narrowing, I watched as Jeff stepped over to grab the boy by his arms while the shorter Med-jack took hold of him by the feet. They lifted his body with great effort, he must have been heavier than they had expected. Alby leaned in one more time to get a closer look at his face. Satisfied he nodded the Med-jacks away to the Homestead, the boy bouncing as they went.

"You've never seen him before?" came Newt's voice beside me. His eyes were now open, watching the same scene as I was.

"No ... not that I remember." I hoped my shaky voice wouldn't give away the doubts that spiralled through my mind. What if he had known me? What would that mean?

"You're sure?" Newt prodded, rising from his position on the ground. Once he was fully upright standing, he turned and extended a hand in my direction. I took it, and pulled myself up until I to was standing. Newt quickly made his way towards where Alby and Thomas stood in the middle of the crowd.

"... Why are you grilling me like this?" Thomas shakily said as we approached them in mid conversation. Alby shook his head, then turned to Newt who had stopped just by Thomas. "Something's whacked. Call a Gathering."

He said it quietly enough that only I and the key surrounding people could here. Then the leader and Newt walked off, leaving Thomas and I standing there in silence.

"Clarke, what's a Gathering?" Thomas questioned, his eyebrow raised, arms crossed.

Shrugging my shoulders, I replied. "I think, now don't quote me on this, when the Keepers meet when something weird happens. They had one when I turned up and-"

"When you went crazy," came a squeaky voice from beside me. Chuck had approached from behind, intent on scaring the living daylights out of me. "They had a small one in the Homestead yesterday."

"Thanks," I mumbled, forcefully being reminded of the events from yesterday. "Now, what do you want?"

Chuck looked up to me, his eyebrows raised, his mouth open, when a loud rumbling sound came from beside me. I twisted to watch as Thomas' face deepening into a bright shade of red. "I didn't finish my breakfast this morning," he stuttered as embarrassment flooded him. "Is there any food to eat?"

I sighed with annoyance. At a time like this, and all he can think about is food! Rolling my eyes, I spoke words that made sure that I wouldn't hint at my anger. "Come on then, Frypan must have something."

* * *

><p>The kitchen was not far away from where Thomas, Chuck and I stood by the Box. Carefully, we snuck into the building, making sure that we weren't seen by Frypan or any of his cooks. The kitchen was fairly big, with everything in it that could make a decent meal. A big oven, a microwave, a dishwasher, a couple of tables. All the essentials placed within, but it seemed old and rundown; thankfully clean. The last time I had been in the kitchens was when I was making a huge mess of the place. I'm surprised Frypan was able to get the mess of the walls.<p>

"Chuck, I'm going to leave you to it. I've got stuff to do," I said as I made my way out of the kitchen. I felt an inclination to go back and once more search through my bag; to try and find something that may help with who I was. As I entered outside, I made my way to the Homestead pushing open the dark creaky door, and tiptoed to my room. Silently, I opened the door so that my whereabouts wouldn't be known. Safely inside, I again silently closed the door, making sure that click wasn't as loud as it could have been. The door fully closed, I turned to face my empty room. My room was of basic nature, and seemed to be a place where I mostly stayed. The walls were brown and peeling in places where an odd damp had settled in. Luckily, there was a basic bed located beneath a very small window. Window, no, what I mean is a square hole in the wall. It doesn't rain here, so there is no need for glass to protect the inside. A single light hung from the ceiling, dirt smothering the tips of it. The best part of the room was the bed. Thin mattress, thin pillow, and thin sheets. It was not comfortable, but it was better than nothing.

Finally alone, I let out a sigh of relief and jumped on to the thin bed, knocking my bag off in the process. I hadn't realised until now how tired I actually was. I must have had at least five hours sleep over the past few days from the nightmares I have been having. Each one intently darker then the next; the worst being the stone angel standing in front of me as I dropped the match onto the ground. I hadn't told anyone about these nightmares, but I knew eventually someone will find out, and then I would tell. I wasn't even sure if these nightmares were just nightmares. Something deep down told me otherwise, that these nightmares were more than what they really seemed.

I sat up from my position on the bed, and bent down to pick up one of the fallen notebooks from the floor. I flicked it open, scanning each page as it fluttered by. The circles etched within this book meant something important, a code of some sort that told me all the answers I needed. I kept scanning through the book over and over again, to try and make sense of what this was. My slim fingers individually separated each page on my lap as I study the circles intently. Five hours sleep seemed to catch up fast as each page I turned again and again became blurry. Circles formed into a mess on the page as my eyes heavily fluttered shut, searing pain vanquished as they closed tight. A quiet thud echoed through my room as the book placed on my lap fell from its position onto the floor. My mind still fully conscious, I felt my body slowly collapse onto the thin mattress; a small silver strong lightly tugging my mind into a dark unforgiving sleep. As my head crashed onto the bed, the silver string's pull became stronger, pulling me into a nightmare that I truly though I could never wake from.

_Boom. Boom. Boom. Hiss. Boom. Boom. Boom. Hiss. My eyes snapped opened to darkness. A darkness that was dimly lit by an unknown source of light. I closed my eyes and wished for my body to wake up, but it would not. I was stuck here, inside my head to face the nightmares. Boom. Boom. Boom. Hiss. I, again, opened my eyes to the strange darkness to see where exactly I was placed. At this point I could only see the ceiling above, a grey metallic ceiling that reflected the light that came into a sort of metal room. Now fully awake, I tried to sit up from my sleeping position on this strange bench, but I couldn't, my arms and legs were bound tightly by something hard and unforgiven. Panic surged up as I tried to squirm free from my bonds. A few moments of trying to free myself, the bonds simply clicked open and I was released. Boom. Boom. Boom. Hiss._

_I quickly removed myself from that unforgiving bench, making sure that I wasn't locked again if I left my arms and legs in there for too long. I hoped off the bed and to my disappointment I saw that I stuck standing in a small metallic room with no exit. The room quickly reminded me of my unpleasant journey up in the Box, how alone I was, and how very trapped I felt. I clutched my stomach to stop my nausea from making me throw up there. Where the heck was I? For one thing, it didn't feel like a nightmare or a dream. It felt completely real. Another memory that I would have to act out again._

_A small light was located on the far corner of the room, emitting as much light its small stature could do; which wasn't enough for my eyes to fully adjust to the darkness. Boom. Boom. Boom. Hiss._

_It was chilly inside the metallic room, with nothing around to provide me with anything of comfort. The best I could do was place myself into a corner and hug my knees until I was fully warm. But that wouldn't happen, the thin hospital gown that I wore brought no warm or comfort, just the smell of death and despair. My head collapsed into my knees creating a small ball that I could curl into. Who knows how long I was in that room for, because the next thing I knew a quiet click came from the opposite wall. I peered up from my tight ball to see that a door had appeared on the other side of the room. The door stood out like a sore thumb. Unlike the metallic room, the door was a soft brown colour that presumably was wood. A large golden brass handle beckoned my hand to open this fine wooden door, and see what was beyond this room._

_I was suspicious at first as to why the door had suddenly appeared, was this a test? Was I supposed to go through that door? I waited to see if my theory was correct. I wasn't going through that door unless I was dragged through screaming._

_I waited and I waited, but for a while nothing happened. Nothing was there to tell me to go through that door. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom._

_You would say that was the first time I had registered the strange noise that vibrated throughout the room. Its sequence had changed, and whatever was out there made me want to stay in this room, to not leave. Whatever happened out there I was not going to be a part of. Now aware of the noise beyond, I waited for the next set of sequence to come. Nothing, not for a long while._

_I started to zone out, my mind trying to think of ways that I could try and escape the memory that I am stuck in, when I noise started to play in the room. It sounded almost exactly like a smoke alarm. At first it was like a ringing sound in my ears, but seconds later it was amplified enough that it drowned out any thought I had. I covered my ears quickly with my hands, but the sound only got louder and louder. It was bouncing off the walls from every direction._

_"Turn it off!" I yelled to whoever was doing this to me. In response, the volume only increased. My head felt like it would have split in half from the noise if it didn't stop quickly._

_I stumbled away from the wall and the volume immediately lowered from a deafening shriek to a piercing whistle. I take another step towards the wooden door and the volume dropped a fraction of what it was. Something clicked in my head and I get the hint. When my hand touched the golden brass handle, the noise dropped to an annoying buzz._

_So that's what they want me to do, to risk my life and go through this unknown doorway. The ringing cut off entirely when I pressed down on the handle. Even though I resented the torture, I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. But, I waited there too long to open the door, and the heinous buzzing resumed. They desperately want me to go through this door. Curiosity grabbed me, and I quickly released my hand from the handle. The piercing noise in my ears reached siren level, my eyes watering. Without thinking, I grabbed the handle and pushed it down, but the wailing kept going on. The noise wasn't going to stop until I went through that door. I had no time to process what was going on; all I wanted was the noise to stop. So, I hesitantly pulled on the door to see if the noise would lower to the annoying buzzing sound. It did not; they weren't taking any chances this time. They wanted me to go through that door. My exit now pulled fully wide open, I ran through to escape that horrid room into another room. This just keeps getting worse and worse._

_The door swung shut behind, its boom echoing through the white room which I know stood. The white room was completely empty; nothing littered the floors, nothing littered walls. I glanced behind me to see if the wooden door was there, again it had disappeared from view leaving no exit. Unsure of what I was supposed to do, I walked to the other side of the room to try and discover if there was anything that I needed to do. But the more I walked, the further away I got from the wall. I wasn't going anywhere. How big was this room?_

_My bare feet plodded along the hard ground, until something soft touched the bottom of them. I looked down to discover that I was no longer standing on the white harsh floor, but in a patch of bright green grass. Where had that come from? The patch looked strange against the harsh white room, but I was not complaining my feet were enjoying something different to the hard cold floors. I wriggled my toes in the grass, letting the soft ends tickle me feet. A small giggle escaped from me as I did this. I must have been mad._

_A dark stem started to grow between my two feet; it weaved and twisted as small bud formed at the end of it. I watched the strange show as a small little flower blossomed between my feet; a little red rose was what was forming on the ground. My brows furrowed together in confusion as I looked down at that strange plant. A small smile creeped along my face as I studied the plant, my fascination growing as to why the rose grew so quickly. Boom. My head snapped up to identify where that sound had come from. My confusion was met once again as I was greeted with I brilliant blue sky. I gazed upward to try and find the source of what was happening. Nothing. There was nothing. My neck aching from its position, I looked down to see that trees had now grown beside me, the closest at least 50 metres away. I spun on my heel to register that I was in fact standing in a small meadow, the only flower located right in front of me. I start to walk towards the trees to see if I could find an exit. A noise starts playing in this room, the same annoying buzz that I dealt with in the metallic room. Immediately stopping, I try and find a camera that I could look directly into. Nope, nothing of the sort. Just I stuck in this strange room, with a very annoying buzzing sound going off._

_I cautiously took another step towards the glade of trees, instantly the buzzing sound increases I'm volume to a pricing whistle once more._

_"Fine," I say, holding up my hands in defeat. I make my way back to where the flower was, positioning myself where I originally stood. The noise returned to an annoying buzz. "What am I supposed to do?" I called into the nothingness._

_"Survive," a low intimidating voice said, as it vibrated around the room._

_"Survive what?"_

_"Pick the flower and survive," was all he replied back. I waited a few moments to test the people watching, I knew they were watching, I could sense it. Waiting only bought the annoying buzzing back up to piercing wailing. Unable to bear the noise, I bent down and snapped the thin steam of the little rose. A loud roar thundered through the room, as the trees directly in front of me shook and snapped from whatever was coming my way. Boom. Boom. Boom. Hiss. This must have been the creature that was making the noise. The ground started to shake beneath my feet as the creature rushes through the trees._

_"Clarke?" a voice whispers behind me, a familiar voice that whispers through the wind. "Wake up! Clarke!"_

_The whispers of the voice increase in volume as stumble backwards from where I stood. Trees collapsed as the creature bellowed in rage, thundering towards me. What was I supposed to do; all I had to protect me was a small little rose. What could that do? Prick it to death?_

_The final trees broke away in front of me, and for the first time I could see what had come to kill me. The stench that came off the creature was foul, it's grey furry body oozed with green gooey liquid that radiated the horrid stench. Its body at least 15 feet tall and 40 feet wide, it was huge. Its face was squashed in many places, a large scar running down the left side of its face. Someone must have been successful if they were able to injury this creature. Its mouth, however, made me a frozen state. Large sharp pointed teeth lined the creature mouth, each one threatened to pierce my body. I was too scared to cover my nose and mouth, frozen in a state of fear. I was too scared to even run, how the hell was I supposed to bloody well survive with only a shucking flower?_

_"Wake up, Clarke!" the familiar voice spoke from behind me, which the creature didn't seem to like. It lifted its gigantic body onto its hind legs and roared in anger, surrounding trees quivering from fear. The room shook as the creature landed back on the ground, anger filling its large yellow eyes. Not good news._

_"Just throw water over her, she might wake up then," a different voice drifted in._

_"I don't want to die," I screamed at the people watching. I didn't want to die, my body snapped in half as the creatures mouth pierced my skin. A final roar came from the creature's mouth as it charged in my direction. Its mouth wide open, teeth coming to get me. I forced myself to move, but I wasn't quick enough. The creature's right leg grabbed at my waist, its long sharp claws digging into my skin. I screamed in pain and fear as I waited to die._


	11. Chapter 11 - Bit of a Pickle

I awoke in a screaming fit kicking and thrashing anything that tried to touch me. Rough hands tried to hold my wild arms down, but I only smack them away. Nothing was going to touch; nothing was going to hurt me.

"Get her arms," a voice called as strong hands clamped mine down. Now that they were securely placed on the bed, I was only able to squirm and wriggle. That was no use; whoever was holding me down had a firm grip.

"Open your eyes shank," a low intimidating voice hissed in my ear. Shivers iced down my back as the voice reminded me of the man that told me to survive that awful attack. Not wanting to be reminded anymore, I snapped them open to see that Gally and Newt had forced themselves on to my wailing arms, trying to keep them down. A nasty red scratch wept across Gally's face, droplets of blood oozing out, each one dropping onto my the sleeve of my white shirt. He looked pissed. Must have not been his style to be attacked by a crazed girl.

I snapped my eyes shut once more and tried to control my breathing. The only way I was getting out quickly was if I tried to calm myself down. I thought of as much as I could, which was hard as I didn't remember very much. I just needed anything that was calm and peaceful. There. I had one. A calm and peacefully thought. City lights dancing and sparkling as wind rushed past. I let smile escape onto my lips as I vividly remembered this sort of memory. With this, the tight grip on my arms lessened until I was able to move them quickly away. I slowly opened my eyes to once again take in the room around me. Rising from the bed, I saw that Gally was no longer present within the room. He must have stormed off before I was able to recollected myself. Alby was stood in the middle of the room, and Newt. Newt. Well, he was still sitting the bed, next to me, worry written all over his face.

"What the hell was that, shank?" Alby demanded as he towered over me. His eyes blazing with anger, his face reddening. Any angrier and steam would blow from his ears. "Well?"

"Nothing?" I squeak from my cowering position.

"Really? That was nothin'?"

"Yes,"

Standing there, he looked me up and down, his eyes motioning that he was unconvinced. Alby's brows crossed together as a scowl formed on his face. His hands flexing as he was ready to punch someone. "You are going to tell me what that was," Alby demanded once again from his position. Droplets of sweat started fall down my face. This was not something I wished to talk about, with anyone. I shifted my gaze from the tall angry figure and tried to look somewhere else. Maybe if he saw that I had lost interest, he would leave me alone.

"One chance to tell us, Clarke. Or you will be spending the night in the slammer," Alby threatened. I kept my mouth shut. No matter what my head screamed, I was not letting them know. At the moment, it's too personal. Something that I would have to figure out on my own. I crossed my arms out of stubbornness, and stared Alby down. If I was going to lose, I was going to do with a bang.

"Fine you had your chance. Newt grab her." As he said this, Newt grabbed my arms and pulled me up from my bed. We walked through the Homestead, boys gawking left and right as the girl was being lead through and outside. Alby pushed open the door and stalked to where the slammer lay. As we walked through the artificial day, I watched as boys all around stopped at what they were doing to see what was happening in front of them. Some had smirks across their faces, others mouths were hanging open like a fish that had forgotten what to do (cause you know, fish have a three second memory). We briskly walked over the hard concrete to where the slammer was situated. I held my head high; trying not to collapse in on myself from deep embarrassment that I knew was punching at an inner wall trying to pour its way in. Not this time embarrassment, you can say exactly where you are.

The slammer was, may I say, a hole in the ground. Okay, not a literal hole in the ground that would be weird. No, it was large sized square shaped hole. Wooden bars covered the top, creating a sort of caged roof. Alby turned to me with a small smirk across his face. "Ya don't tell me now what the shuckin' hell is wrong with ya, then this lovely _'room' _will be your home for the night for your slintface. I will give you until the count of one." Alby lifted up his palm, where four long fingers and a thumb spread out.

"5...4...3..." I kept my mouth shut, head held high. I so badly wanted to tell him, but my mouth refused to speak. I was having a small argument within my head with my mouth. _Just do it, say it, tell everything, what is your problem mouth?_ my head screamed. "2..." Alby raised an eyebrow, expecting me to suddenly spill everything in front of him and stop messing him around. Unfortunately for him, I seemed to have become very stubborn and wanted to test the limits; see how far he would actually go before he snapped.

"1, right. Newt put her in," Alby barked as his eyes flared. He, also, was pissed. Very. Newt looked at me with glazed eyes, as if he was trying to hide something. I shook my arm from his grasp and walked into the cell unassisted. A bang is what I wanted, and a bang is what I got. A very big one. Alby slammed the door shut. "You're in here now until tomorrow mornin'. Got anythin' to say that may potentially shorten it?"

"Fuck you," I mumbled under my breath.

"What was that?" I spun on my heel to see that Alby had stormed off and had left Newt behind. This is embarrassing. My face flushed hot as it reddening in colour.

"Nice view," was all that I could think of to say. _Nice save, now you look like an absolute idiot,_ I sarcastically thought to myself. Before Newt could even reply, a deathly scream erupted from the trees, followed by two figures running fast towards anywhere. I moved to the edge of the slammer and placed my head so that I could see through the gaps. I watched as the second figure, only dressed in white shorts, tackled his prey to the ground. No one had made an attempt to try and rescue the boy, they all stood there dumbfound.

I cleared my throat to see if the frozen Newt would react, he did. He turned his head in my direction, his eyes not living the fight until he fully looked at me. "Aren't you gonna help?" I suggested a hint of sarcasm laced within my words. His mouth formed into an _oh_, to which he realised the problem and scampered off to try and stop what was going on.

Many boys had now snapped out of what they were doing and rushed over to try and help. The crazies figure must have been Ben, no one in their right mind would prance about in nothing but their pants and attack people. The Changing must have started to have a negative effect on him. The screams that came from his room were not the prettiest, and seemed to not improve as each one sounded became less human. I couldn't do much from where I was or even see very much, locked in a cage meant that a restricted view came my way. After a few moments, Alby rushed to the fight, an arrow nocked into his bow. He pulled back the string, and seemed to threaten Ben, or at least try and make him see sense. I couldn't make out what was entirely said, until Ben scream at the top of his lungs, _"Shut your face!"_ and launched himself towards Alby, his arms thrashing about, a small sharp object in his hand. A sharp knife threatening to cut Alby. The world slowed down as there was a sound of snapping string as a slick object whooshed through the air. The object implanted itself in Ben, as he violently snapped his head to the left, his body twisting in on itself until he landed on his stomach.

I crept back from the top of the slammer and made my way to the far edge of the stone cell, the image of Ben's death firmly implanted within my mind. I sunk down the edge of the wall and curled myself into a tight ball. The image of Ben falling replayed in my mind again and again. This was my first time watching someone die, and it sure wasn't my last.


	12. Chapter 12 - Marks

I. Am. So. Bored. So bored. This could have been the worst decision that I made. Why the hell did I need to act big and not tell? Urgh. I'm so annoying. I have been in this goddamn Slammer now for five hours, and there is nothing to do. Pacing, I have decided, is a tedious activity for those that wish to look stupid, also I don't have every far to pace. Of course, Ben's death has not been utterly erased from my mind, but I couldn't do anything about it; not stuck here in a prison cell. This is Star Prises all over again, well I think. Funnily enough I don't remember it or anything as a matter of fact, just in case you haven't got the hint yet.

There was no use trying to escape, I would have nowhere to go and would end up back here again with an even longer sentence. Don't get me wrong, I had created numerous possibilities that could have potentially been perfectly executed, but it relied on not getting caught and very willingly to live in the maze. I wasn't prepared to do either; I'd rather risk my chances here and survive. That's what the Doctor said, I think. My memory is going a bit. My memory is going a bit. How long have I been here, one week? No. Yes. Wait, no. Yes. No. Wait, I can't remember. Strange. I thought only my memories from my previous life had been removed? Test. Tea, official first night, go? Erm... Peas, chicken ... chicken...something else ... something that was hot, fluffy and steamy. Can't remember. Next, what did the man want to know? Easy, how long left we had to live in ... Wait ... That's wrong. Okay, move on. Move on to what? I can't remember anything. Why can't I remember? Is something wrong? Why has no one come? Why did they put me here? Where am I? Who am I? Clarke Pennyweather, that's who I am, then why can't I remember anything? Wait, I can now. Must have been a spell of the hunger, I haven't eaten properly over the past few days.

The weird episode over, I stopped myself in the middle of the room. Dust had built up over my boots, dry mud crusting around the edges. I noticed a small green steam that tried to force its way out of the harsh ground, no means of survival. Huffing, I pulled myself onto the stone bench and waited for night to come.

It was half an hour later when the ivy covered doors boomed shut, sealing the Gladers inside the middle of the Glade. Everyone was done for the night, everything was still. No one had bothered me the whole time I was in here; they were probably too scared of facing Alby's wrath. Which isn't fun, trust me.

The twilight quickly faded into darkness as each Glader in turn took to their sleeping bags to sleep. I, of course, had nothing to sleep in. So was left most of the night without any warmth. I drifted in and out of consciousness, my mind to fully awake to want to sleep. Jeez, it was a pain in the arse. But I was glad for it, for each time I closed my eyes flashes of the ice creature, stone angel, the monster and even Ben's death appeared. I couldn't get them out of my head.

I must have dozed off at one point because the next thing I knew was someone gently shaking my shoulders. Awoke with a start to see a face staring down at me. I jumped slightly as I tried to regain where I was. I hadn't really dreamt; my body was conscious as if it went into lockdown mode. It remembered something that I did not, and it learnt what to do.

My gaze hazy, I could only make out the rough outline of who was in front of me. The cell was lit dully, as if only dawn was breaking. My eyes fully adjusted from my rude awakening to see that Newt had in fact woken me up. I wasn't too pleased. It was the first sort of sleep where no dreams came back to haunt me. Achy all over, a stretched my arms out and yawned.

"What time is it?" I asked Newt, who had stepped back slightly after I had awoken.

"Early, doors aren't open," he replied.

"Then what do you want?" I pushed, demanding to know why he awoken me at this unsightly hour.

"I want to know,"

"About?"

"You know what I mean, Clarke. It's better if you tell someone instead of bottlin' up."

"I don't know what you mean." But I fully well knew. It would have been nice to let all troubles go and tell them what is happening, but could I trust him. That I wasn't so sure of.

"You can trust me," he said. "I knew you wouldn't, so I'm offering a deal. You tell me what's going on, and I'll tell the story behind my limp."

"Is it a good story?"

"It's worth whatever you're keeping from us,"

"I bet that's true," I snapped as I stood up from the cold stone bench. I crossed to the otherwise of the room and looked over at the still Glade. No one was near, so no one could hear us. No one. No harm in telling right? "Who goes first?"

"The one that refuses." A small smile curved up his lips as he knew that I would have to tell. But why would he offer up his story for mine? There was something more to this trusting malarkey.

"Ben, how is he?"

"Ben?" Newt sounded surprised, he hadn't expected the answer that I had given him. It was a distraction, something that would change the answer from what it was. "I'm sorry, Ben didn't make it. Alby's arrow went straight through his head, killed instantly. A quick death, better than what he would have gotten."

"And what would have that been?"

"Banishment."

"Banishment," I softly repeated. That meant only one thing, out of the Glade and into the maze never to return. No one ever survives the night. "Nightmares."

"What?"

"It's nightmares. Just nightmares."

Newt didn't seem convinced; he raised his eyebrow and nodded his head waiting for me to carry on. He knew there was more.

"But there not nightmares, well that's what I think. It's more than that, they seem real." Small tears started form in my eyes as my lips trembled. I looked away from Newt, not wanting him to see the effect. I was strong, I don't cry, right? "The ice creature was the first. It dragged me over the edge of a cloud to my death. The second, I was stuck in a sub with a creature trying to catch me. Third, an angel, stone in fact. Giggling away, taunting me. Problem was, I only knew it was an angel when I struck a match and it was right there in front of me. Teeth bearing, claws aimed to kill. Final one, the most recent. Different from the others..." I trailed off, not wanting to carry on. It bought back to much pain, too much terror, too much fear. I had to be strong; if they were real then I survived. Distracting myself, I focused on the sky above and gracefully bent to my knees. Small tears escaped my eyes and fell down my face, each one leaving trail. A hand placed itself on my shoulder, a comforting gesture that seemed to let the fear go. Fear is a tedious, and only there for the stupid. Too be strong, I have to be fearless.

"...the final, I was in a box and forced to leave to destroy a 40 foot monster that tried to slice me in half." My hand rose from my side and stroked the skin that had been pierced. The skin felt unnatural, bumpy, as if a scar was still there. I pulled up the side of my shirt to reveal my stomach, covered in scars, some deeper than others. My eyes widened in fear as I knew the truth. Memories or no memories, I knew that these nightmares were real. There to haunt me as my brain frantically tried to clutch them back and restore them in their rightful place. If that's right, than my memory loss is something tampering with that system. My breathing quickened into to short sharp breathes as I tried to control myself. I couldn't breathe, my chest felt tight and heavy.

"Clarke, take deep breaths. You're hyperventilating and panicking is making it worse. Look follow me. Ready, deep breath in, deep breath out. Again, deep breath in, deep breath out. Come again." I mimicked what Newt did in front of me, following his instructions carefully so that my breathing returned back to normal. After a minute, it seemed that the heavy feeling in my chest faded away so that my breathing returned to normal. I closed my eyes and rested my head on Newt's shoulder, for he had knelt in front of me. Two arms knitted themselves around me, and I was drawn in closer to him.

"You don't have to tell me about your limp, it isn't worth my story," my muffled voice spoke from his shoulder. Comfort is what I felt from that hug. I felt safe there with him, my troubles free. "Why are we here?"

"I don't know, Clarke. I don't know." Newt whispered into my ear, letting me sob my troubles onto his shoulders.


End file.
